Chapter II

"The nurses who have a seven minutes' walk to their home quarters, have never had a rude word said to them, 'even,' she added, 'when they have had too much to drink.'"--_Daily Province (Vancouver, B.C.)_.

* * * * *

HOLLAND. "YOU'VE TAKEN A GREAT LIBERTY WITH ME."

GERMANY. "OF COURSE I HAVE. I'M THE APOSTLE OF LIBERTY."]

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE SOLACE.

Mr. William Wood, grocer, of Acton, was very tired. And no wonder, for not only had he lost his two assistants, both having been called up, but the girls who had taken their places were frivolous and slow. Moreover his errand boy had that day given notice. And, furthermore, the submarine campaign was making it every day more difficult to keep up the stock, and the rise in prices meant anything but the commensurate increase of profit of which he was accused by indignant customers.

Mr. Wood, therefore, was not sorry when, the shutters up, he could retire to his sitting-room upstairs and rest. His one hobby being reading, and his favourite form of literature being Lives and Letters, he had normally no difficulty in dismissing the shop from his mind. He would open the latest memoir from the library and lose himself in whatever society it reconstructed, political for choice. But to-night the solace could not so easily be found. For one thing, he had no new books; for another, the cares of business were too recent and too real.

He sank into his armchair, covered his eyes with his hand, and pondered.

Then suddenly he had an idea. If there were no letters of the Great to read, he would himself write to the Great and thus escape grocerdom and worry. If he were not a person of importance, he would at least pretend to be, and thus be comforted.

Seating himself at the table and taking up his pen, he composed with infinite care the following chapter from a biography of himself:--

The year 1916 was a comparatively uneventful one in the life of our hero. The principal events were the marriage of his youngest daughter with the son of the Bishop of Brighton and the rebuilding of The Towers after the fire. Perhaps the most important of his new friends were the Archbishop of CANTERBURY and Sir HEDWORTH MEUX, but unfortunately Sir HEDWORTH has not kept any of the letters. Nor is there much correspondence; but a few letters may be printed here, all testifying to the multifarious interests of this remarkable man, who not only knew everyone worth knowing, but projected himself into their careers with so much sympathy and keenness. The first is to the then Prime Minister:--

_To the Right Hon. H.H. ASQUITH, M.P._

MY DEAR ASQUITH,--This is only a line to remind you that you lunch with me at the Primrose Club on Monday at one o'clock. I have asked two or three friends to meet you, all good fellows. With regard to that matter on which you were asking my advice, I think that the wisest course at present is (to use the phrase, now a little stale, which I invented for you) to wait and see. Let me say that I thought your speech at the Guildhall a fine effort. Kindly remember me to the wife and Miss ELIZABETH, and believe me,

Yours sincerely,
WILLIAM WOOD.

P.S.--I wish you would call me William. I always think of you as Herbert.

_To the Earl of ROSEBERY._

MY DEAR ROSEBERY,--It is a great grief to me to have to decline your kind invite to Dalmeny, but there is an obstacle I cannot overcome. My youngest daughter is to be married next week to the son of the Bishop of Brighton, a most well-bred young fellow with perfect manners. Nothing but the necessity of my presence at the feast of Hymen could deprive me of the pleasure of seeing your country place. Do not stay away too long, I beg. The town is dull without you.

I am, dear ROSEBERY,
Yours most affectionately,
WILLIAM WOOD.

_To Mr. RUDYARD KIPLING._

MY DEAR KIPLING,--Just a line to say how much I admire your poem in this morning's _Times_. You have never voiced the feeling of the moment with more force or keener insight. But you will, I am sure, pardon me when I say that in the fifty-eighth stanza there is a regrettable flaw, which could however quickly be put right. To me, that fine appeal to Monaco to give up its neutrality is impaired by the use of the word "cope," which I have always understood should be avoided by good writers. "Deal" has the same meaning and is a truer word. You will, I am sure, agree with me in this criticism when you have leisure to think it over.

Believe me, my dear KIPLING,

Yours sincerely,
WILLIAM WOOD.

_To His Grace the Archbishop of CANTERBURY._

MY DEAR ARCHBISHOP,--That was a very delightful dinner you gave me last night, and I was glad to have the opportunity of meeting Lord MORLEY and discussing with him the character of MARLBOROUGH. While not agreeing with everything that Lord MORLEY said, I am bound to admit that his views impressed me. Some day soon you must bring her Ladyship down to The Towers for a dine and sleep.

I am, my dear Archbishop,
Yours cordially,
WILLIAM WOOD.

_To Lord NORTHCLIFFE._

MY DEAR ALFRED,--You cannot, I am sure, do better than continue in the course you have chosen. What England needs is a vigilant observer from without; and who, as I have so often told you, is better fitted for such a part than you? You have all the qualities--high mobility, the courage to abandon convictions, and extreme youth. If you lack anything it is perhaps ballast, and here I might help you. Ring me up at any time, day or night, and I will come to you, just as I used to do years ago when you were beginning.

Think of me always as
Yours very sincerely,
WILLIAM WOOD.

_To Sir ARTHUR WING PINERO._

MY DEAR PINERO,--I am glad you liked my suggestion and are already at work upon it. No one could handle it so well as you. I write now because it has occurred to me that the proper place for Lord Scudamore to disown his guilty wife and for her impassioned reply is not, as we had it, the spare room, but the parlour.

I am, dear old fellow,
Always yours to command,
WILLIAM WOOD

Having written thus far, Mr. William Wood went to bed, perfectly at peace with himself and the world.

* * * * *

_Professor._ "THANKS. BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN SO CONCERNED ON MY BEHALF."

_Friend._ "WELL, A RUMOUR _DID_ GO ROUND THE ROOM THAT THE WAR WOULD BE OVER BEFORE YOUR LECTURE." ]

* * * * *

THE GREAT BETRAYAL.

'Twas night, and near the Boreal cliff
The monarch in seclusion lay,
A wondrous human hieroglyph,
Worshipped from Chile to Cathay;
When lo! a cry, "Sire, up and fly!
The pirate ships are in the bay!"

"Begone, ye cravens," straight replied
The monarch with his eyes ablaze;
"No pirate on the ocean wide
Can fright me, for I know their ways.
Shall I do less in times of stress
Than soldiers who have earned My praise?

"Yet stay," he paused awhile, and then--
"Let messengers the country scour
On pain of death forbidding men
To speak, in hut or hall or tower,
Of what I said this night of dread,
Or where I spent its darkest hour."

Swift flew the minions to obey;
The wearied monarch slumbered late;
Yet, in the Capital next day,
Writ large upon his palace gate,
A mighty scroll to every soul
Blazoned the words that challenged Fate.

The monarch's rage surpassed all bounds
When of this treachery he read;
A price of several million pounds
Was placed upon the miscreant's head;
But sceptics jibe--an odious tribe--
And swear that he will die in bed.

* * * * *

A New Way to Pay Old Debts.

"The Inventor of British and American Patents is desirous to Sell or
License to Manufacturers, &c., &c.... The above Inventor and Patentee
will be greatly obliged if anyone that he owes money to will forward
the amount not later than this month, otherwise he will not acknowledge
after."--_Financial Times._

* * * * *

"LITTLE WAR PICTURES.
A NOBLE ARMY OF OPTIMISTS IN TRANCE."--_Straits Times (Singapore)._

We wish our pessimists would join them.

* * * * *

THE WATCH DOGS.