Read Ebook: Punch or the London Charivari Volume 159 November 24 1920 by Various Seaman Owen Editor

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 77 lines and 10826 words, and 2 pages

sitate an early visit to my club. I had just decided what brand of cocktail would best meet the case when I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up at a vast blue expanse which I realised later was a policeman.

"If you've quite finished with that there 'orse you're sitting on, young man," he said, "the leddy wants to take it 'ome."

The crowd chuckled and I rose hurriedly. Unfortunately, so did the horse, urged on, possibly by the cries and kicks of several willing helpers, or possibly by the sight of his mistress, who had come up, I hoped, to thank me.

Not only did the horse rise, but he rose at full speed and without giving me time to get my foot off the rein on which I was unwittingly standing.

My leg shot into the air and I lost all sense of direction for a few seconds. Then a slight shock, and I found myself clasping the "leddy" firmly round the neck.

At this juncture my aunt appeared.

My aunt, I should explain, is nothing if not dignified. She is built on the lines of a monitor, bluff in the bow, broad in the beam, slow and majestic of movement. Her lips were moving feebly when I saw her, but she uttered no sound, uncertain, I suppose, whether to intervene or to pretend that I was in no way connected with her.

Paralysed by her arrival, I saw her slowly take in the scene. Her eye wandered from the policeman to me, from me to the unfortunate girl to whom I still clung. I could see her jumping--no, moving ponderously--towards the wrong conclusion.

Mr. Punch, what would you have done?

Yours faithfully, An N. O.

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

The PRESIDENT OF THE BOARD OF TRADE must regard Monday with rather mixed feelings. That is the day on which Questions addressed to his Department have first place on the Order-paper; and accordingly he has a lively quarter-of-an-hour in coping with the contradictory conundrums of Cobdenites and Chamberlainites. On the whole he treads the fiscal tight-rope with an imperturbability worthy of BLONDIN. A Tariff Reformer, indignant at the increased imports of foreign glass-ware, provoked the query, "Does my hon. friend regard bottles as a key-industry?" And a Wee Free Trader who sarcastically inquired if foreign countries complained of our dumping cement on them at prices much above the cost in this country was promptly told that "that is the very reverse of dumping."

Sir DONALD MACLEAN was rewarded to-night for all his uphill work as leader of the Wee Frees before--and since--Mr. ASQUITH'S reappearance. On the Financial Resolution of the Ministry of Health Bill his eloquent plea for the harassed ratepayers received an almost suspiciously prompt response from Mr. BONAR LAW, who admitted that it was inconvenient to drive an "omnibus" measure of this kind through an Autumn Session, and intimated that thirteen of its clauses would be jettisoned. An appeal from Lady ASTOR, that the Government should not "economise in health," fell upon deaf ears. Dr. ADDISON not only enumerated the thirteen doomed clauses, but threw in a fourteenth for luck.

Hopes of a relaxation of the passport restrictions were a little dashed by Mr. HARMSWORTH'S announcement that the fees received for British visas amounted to some fifty per cent. more than the cost of the staff employed. The Government will naturally be loth to scrap a Department which actually earns its keep.

The Front Opposition Bench in the Commons was almost deserted at Question-time. Presently the appearance of Lieut.-Commander KENWORTHY in unusually festive attire furnished an explanation. After forty years of bachelorship and four of fighting, WEDGWOOD BENN is Benedict indeed; and his colleagues were attending his wedding-festivities.

The SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY has not yet attained to the omniscience in Naval affairs that his predecessor acquired in the course of twelve years' continuous occupancy of the post. But Sir JAMES CRAIG can handle an awkward questioner no less deftly than "Dr. MAC." Witness his excuse for not replying to a "Supplementary":--"The hon. and gallant gentleman must understand that I attach so much importance to his questions that I wish to be most punctilious in my answers." Who could persist after that?

Mr. BONAR LAW stated that the treaties by which Great Britain and France were responsible for constitutional government in Greece came to an end in August last. Consequently the two Powers have "a completely free hand" in regard to the Greek Monarchy. But he begged to be excused from saying in what manner that "free hand" would be used if TINO should think of returning.

THE BOOT MYSTERY.

DRAMATIC SCENES AT BILBURY QUARTER SESSIONS.

COUNSEL FOR PROSECUTION ARRIVES FROM LONDON.

THE PROCEEDINGS.

NOTES ON THE LEADING PERSONALITIES IN THE GREAT DRAMA.

PRISONER ADKINS' AWKWARD ADMISSION.

A sombre court-house of Quarter Sessions, the light with difficulty penetrating the dusty panes of the windows. On the so-called Bench sits the Bench so-called; in point of fact there are half-a-dozen ripe aldermen sitting on chairs, in the midst of which is an arm-chair, and in it Mr. Augustus Jones, the Recorder of Bilbury.

Born in 1873 of rich but respectable parents; called, with no uncertain voice, to the Bar in 1894; of a weighty corpulence and stormy visage, Mr. Jones now settles himself in his arm-chair to hear and determine all this business about Absalom Adkins and the Boots. How admirably impressive is Mr. Jones's typically English absence of hysteria, his calm, his restfulness. Indeed, give Mr. Jones five minutes to himself and it is even betting he would be fast asleep.

The Clerk of the Court with awful dignity suggests getting a move on. Mr. Blaythwayte who, as well as Clerk of the Court is also Town Clerk of Bilbury, was born in 1850 and, having survived the intervening years, now demands the production of the prisoner from below. Looking at this dignitary one gets the poetic impression of a mass of white hair, white moustache, white whiskers, white beard and white wig, with little bits of bright red face appearing in between. From a crevice in one of these patches come the ominous words, of which we catch but a sample or two: "... Prisoner at the bar ... for that you did ... steal, take and carry away ... pairs of boots ... of our Lord the King, his crown and dignity."

At this moment there arrives in court a sinister figure wearing the wig and gown so much affected by the English Bar. Plainly a man of character and of moment; obviously selected with great care for this highly difficult and delicate matter. His features are sharp, clean-cut. One feels that they have been sharpened and cut clean this very morning. In his hand he holds the fateful brief, pregnant with damnatory facts. He makes his way into the pen reserved "For Counsel only." The usher locks him in for safety's sake.

PERSONS IN THE DRAMA .

Who is this strong silent man, this robed counsellor trusted with the case of the Crown? Who is it? It is I! Born in the year--but if I'm to tell my life story it's a thousand pounds I want. Make it guineas and I will include portraits of self and relations, with place of birth, inset.

The scenario is now complete. Leading characters, minor characters, chorus, supernumeraries and I myself are all on the stage. Absalom Adkins, clad in a loose-fitting corduroy lounge suit and his neck encased in a whitish kerchief, rises from his seat. Mr. Jones, the Recorder, does much as he was doing before--nothing in particular. Counsel for the prosecution re-reads his brief, underlines the significant points, forgets that his pencil is a blue one and licks it. On a side-table, impervious to their surroundings and apparently unconcerned with their significance, sit the crucial boots.

"How say you, Absalom Adkins"--such the concluding words of the Clerk, the finish of the prologue which rings up the curtain on this human drama--"how say you? Are you guilty or not guilty?"

"Guilty," says Absalom, and that ends it.

Later a large and enthusiastic crowd outside might have seen a man with clean and sharp-cut features carrying a bag in one hand and an umbrella in the other, stepping lightly on to a Bilbury corporation tram, station bound. This is the counsel for the prosecution , his grave responsibilities honourably discharged, hurrying back to the vortex of metropolitan life.

F. O. L.

From a stores catalogue:--

Guaranteed for one year--Fair wear and tear excepted."

There is always a catch somewhere.

Referring, we trust, to the number and not the vintage.

"CONTRACTS, TENDERS, &c.

The Great Northern Railway Company.

Allegro moderato } from String } Notturno ....... } Quartet, No. 2, } Borodine. } in D }

STORES CONTRACTS."

It is generally supposed that the company entertains the idea of attempting to "soothe the savage breast" of the MINISTER OF TRANSPORT.

THE LETTERS I NEVER POST.

It is because nothing that I could have said then, in your horrid hostile mood, would have convinced you that there is any injustice to a fare at all in putting down your flag before you are properly started, that I am writing this letter. My hope is that quiet perusal may demonstrate that the fare has, at any rate, a grain of logic on his side if he looks upon himself as defrauded. We don't, you know, take your cabs for the joy of sitting in them, or for the pleasure of watching you struggling with a crank, but to be conveyed quickly from place to place. It is wrong to ask us to pay for the time spent by you in persuading your engine to behave, and it is indecent to become abusive when we act on that assumption. If I had not been so busy I should have refused to pay at all and forced you to summon me; but who has time for such costly formalities? And I might have had to lose my temper, which I have not done since I read an article by a doctor saying that every such loss means an abbreviation of life. Life in a world made fit for heroes may not be any great catch, but it is better, at any rate, than passing to a region where one is apparently liable to be in constant communication with mediums.

One other thing. I have just returned from Paris, where, amid much that is unsatisfactory and besmirched by Peace, taxis remain trustworthy and plentiful. The price marked on the meter is that which the fare pays, and any number of persons may ride in the cab without extra charge. Nothing exceeds my scorn for the English taxi-driver who demands another ninepence for an additional passenger, even though only a child--nothing except my scorn for the cowardly official who conceded this monstrous imposition.

TO AN ADMINISTRATOR.

DEAR SIR,--May I implore you to authorise the instant removal of the buildings in the St. James's Park lake? During the War we who find on the suspension bridge, looking West, the most beautiful late afternoon view in London, were content to endure the invasion. But we have passed the second Armistice Day, and still the huts remain, and still there is no water, and still the enchanted prospect is denied us. After all, this lake is part of London, and London ratepayers should be entitled to their city's beauties as well as its necessities.

TO A PRETTY GIRL.

TO A HABERDASHER.

DEAR SIR,--When I came to put on the collar that I bought from you yesterday I found that your young man's finger-marks were on it. Why don't you make your assistants wear gloves when they handle collars?

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet