Punch, or The London Charivari, Vol. 150, April 19, 1916 online

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VOL. 150.

APRIL 19, 1916.

[Illustration: _Overworked and exasperated Colonel (who has told Adjutant
to answer the telephone)._ "WELL, WHAT THE BLAZES DO THEY WANT?"


* * * * *


The recent Zeppelin raids have not been without their advantages. In a
spirit of emulation an ambitious hen at Acton has laid an egg weighing
5-1/4 oz.

* * *

The opponents of Colonel ROOSEVELT regard the advice given in the title
of his new book, _Fear God and take your own part_, to be unusually
moderate as coming from one who, whatever he may have said to the contrary,
is very generally suspected of being prepared to take the part that is
at present being played by President WILSON.

* * *

At a meeting of the "No-Conscription Fellowship" last week, Mr. PHILIP
SNOWDEN referred to the Conscientious Objectors as the "Salt of the
Earth." Perhaps, but we don't care to have them rubbed into us.

* * *

Germany has addressed a Note to the United States explaining that the
_Sussex_ could not possibly have been torpedoed for the reason that the
submarine commander who sank the vessel had no difficulty in drawing
a picture of her which closely resembled a totally different ship.

* * *

It is announced that the care of the great vine at Hampton Court has been
taken over by the Office of Works from the Board of Green Cloth. It is
rumoured that the latter body, which has been of late somewhat lost sight
of, is to be entrusted with the general supervision of our aerial forces.

* * *

So successful have been the electrically-heated footwarmers supplied
to the police of Pittsburg, Pa, that the State Department is said to
be contemplating their adoption.

* * *

For shouting "The Zepps are coming!" a Grimsby girl has been fined
£1. It was urged in defence that the girl suffered from hallucinations,
one of which was that she was a daily newspaper proprietor.

* * *

While announcing in Parliament last week that the Zoo would have to
pay the Amusement Tax the CHANCELLOR promised to "keep an open mind in
regard to any representations that might be made on the subject." Mr.
MCKENNA, we understand, has since received a strong representation from
the hippopotamus, protesting that, while he and his fellow-pachyderms are
commonly considered as instructive, their natural dignity precludes them
from attempting to provide amusement in any form.

* * *

"In twenty years' time," says Mr. PEMBERTON BILLING, "the aeroplane will
bring about universal peace." This statement will come as a distinct shock
to many who imagined that with Mr. BILLING at Westminster it might be
expected to achieve this desirable result in about twenty days.

* * *

The Gaslight and Coke Co., in the interests of economy, are proposing
to abandon the painting of street lamp-posts. The chief patrons of
these institutions, they say, will be quite satisfied as long as the
lamp-posts still feel the same to the touch.

* * *

A woman doctor has lately advanced the theory that talking leads to long
life; but an attested married man of our acquaintance assures us that
this is a mistake, and that it merely makes it seem longer.

* * * * *


_Provincial Paper._

A tempting solution of the Government's problem, but perhaps a little
too mediæval for these times.

* * * * *


[See note to Cartoon on opposite page.]

_The Sultan soliloquises: - _

MEHMOUD, the gilt is off your idol's crown;
Clear shows the clay beneath the chipped enamel;
In sporting phrase, your dibs have been planked down
On the wrong camel.

This WILLIAM had a God he called his peer,
And yet must needs take on a new religion;
Spoke well of ALLAH; in His Shadow's ear
Cooed like a pigeon;

Pressed you to join him in a Holy War;
Advanced the wherewithal you badly needed;
And taught you how to go for Christian gore
The same as he did.

And now, where Afric's fountains fling their balm,
In his last place within the sun, 'tis written
With how remote a love for dear Islam
Your Bosch was bitten.

He hoped to stamp your creed out, branch and root;
This missionary meant to take your Arabs
And crush their souls beneath his mailéd boot
Like crawling scarabs.

And if they still ignored his ponderous heel,
If still their faith in ALLAH stood unshaken,
He looked to stimulate a local zeal
For heathen bacon!

MEHMOUD, it is too much! Sick Man you are,
Yet in your veins I hope enough of vigour is
To tell this WILLIAM he has gone too far
With his damned piggeries!

O. S.

* * * * *



(_From Dr. LIEBKNECHT._)

If such trifling matters as the meeting of the Reichstag now occupy any
portion of your Majesty's attention, it may please you to learn that my
membership of that august body has been temporarily suspended. At the
same time I should be sorry that your Majesty should labour under any
misapprehension as to what happened. No doubt I was forbidden to speak,
though I am the representative of people whose voices have a right to be
heard even in the unhappy Parliament which is all that the German Empire
is allowed to provide for the subjects of the German KAISER. But I wish
you to understand that I was not silenced before I had said aloud nearly
everything that I had in my mind to say. It is true that I did not make
any formal speech. The bellowing blockheads who now arrogate to themselves
the name of patriots and all the virtues of patriotism were easily able
to prevent me from doing this, and I was forced, therefore, to confine
myself to short and sharp interjections thrown in at appropriate moments
while BETHMANN-HOLLWEG, that arch-impostor, was proving to the whole world
that even if Germany had a good case he is the last man who would be able
to place it in a convincing manner before the judgment of the world.

Your Majesty has had a long practice in the use of words. You pride
yourself on the glorious and beneficial effect of such speeches as that
in which you condescendingly praised the Almighty for having allied
Himself with you, very much, as it appeared, to His own advantage,
or that other speech in which you announced to your conscripts their
duty to shoot down their parents if in some momentary whim you ordered
them to do it, or even that other brave and Imperial harangue in which
you declared your humane and merciful designs on the Chinese people. I
have no doubt, then, that if you could be induced to speak your opinion
fairly and openly you would admit that, though you yourself could, of
course, have done better, I did not do so very badly in my little bout
with poor BETHMANN. At any rate I spoke the truth, which is an inconvenient
course of conduct, and made BETHMANN look the fool that everybody (except,
perhaps, your Majesty) knows him to be.

Indeed, your Majesty, a fool who is also arrogant is a very terrible
thing. When BETHMANN, for instance, spoke of Germany's love for her
neighbours, and in particular for the small nations, he delivered himself
into my hands. All I had to do - and I did it - was to remind him that he
proved his love by jumping upon them and strangling them. In a moment
the whole fabric of his stupid argument was shattered and he was left
gaping open-mouthed and without an answer before the whole world. The
incident showed the man's mind and his disposition in a lightning flash,
and from all countries, even from wretched Belgium and from ruined Serbia,
there came a laugh of hatred and contempt. Why are we so hated? Not
because we are great and powerful and prosperous, but because we make our
greatness an incubus, our power a tyranny and our prosperity an offence.

Fools like BETHMANN do not see this. They and their fellow-fools, some
of them quite brilliant men, with high notions on literature and music and
the drama, are for ever in a state of jealous fear. They have the mania
of persecution and imagine that all other countries are leagued against
them for the purpose of wiping Germany off the map. Then they lose their
unfortunate heads and strike out blindly to right and left. The other
nations have no course open to them except to defend themselves as best
they may, and then Herr BETHMANN and his superior fools shout out that
this wicked defensive proves up to the hilt that when they spoke of
conspiracies they were fully justified and that Germany for her own safety
must smash and in the end control every other country under the sun.

And yet, your Majesty, the time will come when we must have peace. This
pouring out of blood, this tremendous waste of money and lives must some
day have an end. Those are the best patriots who would put a stop to it
as soon as possible, for the longer you defer peace the more difficult
it becomes to make it. We have been told of great victories, but they
profit us not at all. All is desolation and cruelty and confusion. And
those who think most of Germany know best how bitterly she needs peace.

Your truth-telling but suspended subject,


* * * * *


"_The Matin_ points out the predicament in which the German High
Command must have found itself yesterday when editing its daily
_communiqué_. No doubt it wished to place on record with all
customary exaggeration the slight advantage gained on the slopes
of the Dead Man. But how can the German High Command state this
convincingly when for over a week it has solemnly announced the
complete capture of the Dead Man? It has therefore to maintain
silence as the only expedient." - _Evening News_.

On the principle: "_De mortuis nil nisi bonum_."

* * * * *

"We are told that the maximum of the income-tax duty will be
reached at five shillings in the pound, a figure that will recall
the Budgets of the Neapolitan wars." - _Irish Paper._

When, as now, Vesuvians were so heavily taxed.

* * * * *

[Illustration: LOVE ME, LOVE MY PIG. [Captured documents show that the
German Government had schemed to stamp out Mohammedanism in East Africa
both by force and by the encouragement of pig-breeding.]]


"'E didn't mean to do it," he said, touching the bandages on his head.
"Oh no, quite an accident. It was a foo-de-joy - doorin' the armistice.
Wot, haven't you 'eard of Grass Valley Armistice?"

I said I couldn't recall it for the moment.

"It was doorin' September," he said; lasted two hours. Sergeant Duffin
started it.

"'E was out on a patrol one night, and suddenly 'e comes rashin' back
over the parapet and goes chargin' down to the Major's dug-out with a
face like this 'ere sheet.

"'They'me comin',' ses Bints 'oo was next to me, and we were just goin'
to loose off a round or two, when we 'eard ole Duffy 'ollerin' in the
Major's bunk.

"'Barbed wire's gone, Sir,' 'e ses.

"'Wot?' ses the Major.

"''Ave to report the wire's gone,' ses Duffy again.

"'Tell Lootenant Bann,' drawls the ole man, as if someone 'ad told
'im tea was ready.

"When Bann 'ears the noos, 'e fires a light up.

"'Can't see none,' 'e mutters, quite annoyed, and off 'e goes over the
top to find out for sure. In 'alf-an-hour 'e was back again.

"'The blighters 'ave pinched our wire,' 'e ses to the Major. 'They've
drawed across them chevoo-der-freezes I put out, and stuck them on their
own dirty scrap-'eap.'

"'Fetch 'em back,' says the Major, very off-'and like.

"'Right-O,' says Bann. 'Right-O.' For 'e'd spent three solid hours
puttin' the wire out.

"'Fetch a pick an' some rope,' 'e ses to Duffy. 'I'm goin' to 'arpoon
our wire.' Then he ties the rope to the 'andle of the pick and trots
off over the parapet.

"After a bit we 'ears the pick land amongst the barbed wire with a rattle
like a bike smash, an' the next minit back comes young Bann, sprintin'
like a 'are an' uncoilin' the rope on the way.

"'Now then,' he shouts, jumpin' into the trench, 'man the rope!' an' we
lines up ready down the communication trench. ''Aul away,' 'e 'ollers,
an' back we goes, pullin' like transport-mules.

"It give a few inches to start with, an' then a foot or two, an' then,
just when the wire must 'ave been 'alf-way 'ome it suddenly stuck fast.

"'Must 'ave caught on summat,' ses Bann, an' sets off with 'is
wire-cutters to clear it.

"''Eave,' grunts ole Jones at the end of the rope. ''Eave-o, my
'earties,' an' then 'e knocks up against the ration-party comin'
'ome down the communication trench. ''Ang on, mates,' 'e shouts to
them, an' down goes the bully bif, an' the next minit a loud rip an'
some bad language told us 'is coat couldn't stand it.

"We got some more chaps at it then, but the rope never budged an inch.

"Then Bann comes runnin' back again, very excited-lookin'. 'Look out!'
he shouts; 'the Bosches 'ave got a rope 'itched on, too.'

"Sure enough, the next minit the Germans puts their weight on, and pulls
'alf of us right over the bloomin' parapet.

"The Major comes along then, and when 'e sees the state of things 'e
looks quite solemn, for there was only Lootenant Bann and ole Jones
left in the trench.

"Where's the team?' 'e snaps, as severe as if you'd come on parade
without your rifle.

"'Fall in, tug-o-war team,' sings out Duffy, and our eight, 'oo 'ad been
lookin' on rather superior like, moistens their 'ands and stands to.

"'This is your work,' ses the Major to them, very significant.

"'Take the strain,' 'ollers Duffy, and the evenin' doo fair streamed
out of the rope when they put their weight on. Back goes our team, two
foot at least, whilst the lads cheers and yells as if we was winnin'
the divisional prize on Salisbury Plain again.

"By this time the Bosches was just as excited as we were. They was
rushin' about in the open with our men, 'owling their lingo and firin'
off their rifles for encouragement. I stopped a shot somebody 'ad aimed
at the sky for joy.

"When old Binks and the German chap 'oo 'ad done it was carryin' me
back to our trench, I saw the Major come rushin' past.

"'Go it, men,' 'e sings out to our chaps, and then off 'e sprints again,
to finish a bet he was makin' with the German officer.

"For an hour and a 'alf the excitement was awful. Up and down went that
wire until the place looked like a ploughed field. First we gained an
inch, then Germany 'ad a couple, then England gets one back, and up goes
our caps again. Everybody was rushin' about yellin', and ole Binks,
'oo knows a bit of German, made a nice bit of money at interpretin'.

"Then things suddenly got worse. Our eight 'ung on like 'eroes,
everyone swearin' 'e wouldn't loose that rope if 'e was pulled into the
KAYSER's bloomin' bedroom; but sure enough the Huns was slowly winnin'.
Inch by inch we saw our chaps give way, black in the face at the notion of
bein' beat. The Bosches yelled like 'eathens, and was shakin' hands with
everybody. Then all of a sudden young Bann comes rushin' up to the Major,
'oo was takin' four to one with a chap from Coburg.

"'Stop, Sir!' I 'ears 'im shout. 'Stop the contest! The dirty blighters
are usin' a _windlass_.'

"'Wot?' 'owls the Major, goin' purple at the thought of international
laws bein' disregarded like that.

"'Take the men off the rope,' 'e orders. 'We hunderstood we was pullin'
with gentlemen,' 'e ses very dignified, and then thinkin', no doubt,
of the four to one in dollars 'e 'd 'ave won if they'd played fair 'e
orders us to stand to and give them ten rounds rapid; and 'e used such
language on the telephone that the Artillery thought we was attacked,
and loosed off every shell they could lay hands on. So the War started
again, you see.

He touched his head and thought a minute. "That was Grass Valley
Armistice," he said finally, and relapsed into silence.

* * * * *

[Illustration: WAR ECONOMY.

_Street Hawker (to chatty old lady)._ "YES, MUM, I'M BEING BADLY 'IT. YER

* * * * *

"In Prize Court Attorney-General read affidavit showing there
were gangs in Germany, America and other neutral countries
engaged in evading our blockade."

_Liverpool Echo._

It will take more than an affidavit to convince us that Germany is
a neutral.

* * * * *

[Illustration: OUR ADOPTED ALIENS.




* * * * *


_His Day, April 23rd._

SAINT GEORGE he was a fighting man, as all the tales do tell;
He fought a battle long ago, and fought it wondrous well;
With his helmet and his hauberk and his good cross-hilted sword,
Oh, he rode a-slaying Dragons to the glory of the Lord.
And when his time on earth was done he found he could not rest
Where the year is always Summer in the Islands of the Blest,
So back he came to earth again to see what he could do,
And they cradled him in England -
In England, April England -
Oh, they cradled him in England where the golden willows blew!

SAINT GEORGE he was a fighting man and loved a fighting breed,
And whenever England wants him now he's ready to her need;
From Creçy field to Neuve Chapelle, he's there with hand and sword,
And he sailed with DRAKE from Devon to the glory of the Lord.
His arm is strong to smite the wrong and break the tyrant's pride;
He was there when NELSON triumphed, he was there when GORDON died;
He sees his Red-Cross ensign float on all the winds that blow,
But ah! his heart's in England -
In England, April England -
His heart it dreams of England where the golden willows grow.

SAINT GEORGE he was a fighting man; he's here and fighting still,
While any wrong is yet to right or Dragon yet to kill;
And faith! he's finding work this day to suit his war-worn sword,
For he's strafing Huns in Flanders to the glory of the Lord!
SAINT GEORGE he is a fighting man, but, when the fighting's past,
And dead amid the trampled fields the fiercest and the last
Of all the Dragons earth has known beneath his feet lies low,
Ah, his heart will turn to England -
To England, April England -
He'll come home to rest in England where the golden willows blow.

* * * * *


(_At the "Plough and Horses."_)

"Glory o' England, be passin', sure 'nough."

"She been passin' ever since I been 'ere to tell o' it, seems to me. 'Ow
be she passin' now more 'n ordinary times, Luther Cherriman?"

"Way as is nearest to sudden death, George. 'Er young men gettin' that
soft an' sloppy-like that there ain't no tellin' some of 'em from gals."

"Gals be comin' 'long won'erful - not much to complain o' wi' they.
Drivin' motors, they be, an' diggin' an' all."

"Times be changin' fast; nigh time women wore the breeches an' done wi'
it, now."

"I did think as our lads was doin' their bit middlin' well, too, out
to Front. I did seem to 'ear they 'd counted f'r a German or two,
first an' last."

"Fightin' Germans is a man's _work_ just to present - if 'e be strong
'nough an' young 'nough an' all rest of it. But ye can't judge a man by
'is work 'lone, not to make a proper man of 'im. Sport did used to be
the glory o' England, in my young days. An' now the young uns ain't
got spunk 'nough to shoot a rabbit."

"That be an 'ard sayin', Luther, if ye like. 'Oo be you 'ludin' to

"I be 'ludin' to young Squire - 'oo did ought to set a good 'xample in this
'ere village, if anyone ought."

"'E were th' first to go when th' War broke out, though 'e be th' only
son of 'is parents. An' more 'n 'alf of our chaps went 'cos of 'im, so
'tis said."

"That's all right, far as it goes - - "

"I've 'eard say as 'e 've got a few more t' join ev'ry blessed time
'e've been 'ome on leave. They do say 'e be mortal keen."

"I don't say nothin' 'bout 'im shootin' Germans - I knows nothin'
'bout that. But in these 'ome fields I 'ave seen what I 'ave seen - no
longer ago 'n yesterday."

"Be it too much to ask ye, then, what ye 'ave seen, Luther?"

"I seen a sight as tells me glory o' England be on th' wane. I seen
young Squire loppin' 'bout 'ome fields an' 'is bits o' span'els at
'is 'eels same as ever. An' yet 'e looked that strange like I couldn't
take m' eyes off of 'im. An' then it come over me all of a sudden what
'twas. 'Where be y'r gun, Sir?' I shouts to 'im over th' stile."

"What did 'e say to question personal as that?"

"'E come up to me an' I sees 'e got bunch o' daffodils in 'is 'and. 'These
things smell o' Heaven,' 'e says, smilin' quiet. 'My gun is in the
rack, Cherriman,' 'e says, 'where it's like to be.' 'Lor' love me,
Sir,' says I, 'that do be strange, surelye, wi' th' rabbits 'oppin'
'round y' feet like a lot o' gals courtin' o' ye.' 'Strange,' 'e says;
'but we lives in strange times now, Cherriman. An' I've seen slaughter
'nough in Flanders to serve me for th' moment,' 'e says."

"'E said that?"

"'E did. An' white 'e went as 'e said it - you see the white comin'
up under the brown of 'im."

"Pickin daffs?"

"Like some bloomin' gal."

"Didn't 'e say nothin' more?"

"'You dunno what it's like,' 'e says, 'to be back in this old place - to
smell the good old Sussex clay, to watch the plovers flyin', to pick
these flowers. You dunno what it's like, Cherriman,' 'e says, 'seein'
you ain't come back to it from 'ell. Rabbits be safe 'nough from me now,'
'e says, an' drops his daffs all unknowin' like an' goes off at a mooney
stride. An' 'e finest shot in th' county, some do say - an' I believes

"Teh, Luther - stop yer jaw! There be young Squire a-comin'. An' bless
me if 'e ain't ..."

"Here, you two old rascals, I've been looking for you - for you, anyhow,
Cherriman. Here's a rabbit apiece for your suppers - shot 'em myself."

"Thank ye kindly, Sir. But I thought as you'd give up shootin'?"

"I thought so too, Cherriman - till I saw your face in the field yesterday.
And then I said to myself, I must regain Cherriman's respect if it means
the hardest bit of shooting I've ever done here or in Flanders."

"That's right, Sir! Don't do to let glory o' England die. Thank ye kindly
for rabbits, Sir - us'll enjoy 'em proper."

"Hope you'll break your last tooth on them, Cherriman - that's what
I hope."

"Glory o' England's more to me, Sir, 'n an 'ole set o' teeth at my time
o' life."

* * * * *


_"Evening News" poster._

Are not these revelations just a little hard on our friends' wives?

* * * * *

The Art of Journalistic Expansion.

"The 'Russky Invalid' states: 'The Caucasus army has performed
a miracle which in military history will be remembered for years
to come.'" - _The Age (Melbourne)._

"'General Russky, though an invalid, and his Caucasus army,'
declares _The Messenger_, 'have performed a miracle which military
history will remember for years to come.'"

_The Argus (Melbourne)._

* * * * *


At Cambridge, where on field or flood
He shone like a GOLDIE or a STUDD,
He was an intellectual "blood."

He made the grimmest dons unbend,
And missed his First, right at the end,
For he cut his Tripos - to nurse a friend.

Then he wrote a novel. The weekly press

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Online LibraryVariousPunch, or The London Charivari, Vol. 150, April 19, 1916 → online text (page 1 of 3)