Volume 158 — THE MAN WHO COULD DO IT HIMSELF.
Reading edition
I'll put it right.
"Plumber? Of course not—
"Horace, there's something wrong with the boiler. Shall I get the plumber?"
and a ladder—
and a hammer—
Just get me a spanner—
and as many towels as you can find—
and a wooden plug or two—
and some string—
the doctor."
and—
and all the blankets in the house—
SHAKSPEARE THE TRADUCER.
The members of the League of Scottish Veterans of the World War met recently in New York, and after "due deliberation" (Query, Can Scotchmen deliberate "duly" in New York now?) passed a resolution demanding that Shakspeare's tragedy, Macbeth, be removed from the curriculum of English literature studies in American schools.
Apparently this was an example of "dry" Scotch humour. A neighbouring city had previously banned The Merchant of Venice from its schools on the ground that the character of Shylock was a libel on the Jewish race. If Jewish children no longer had to pay for school editions of The Merchant of Venice should Scottish infants still have to squander their bawbees on a play that insulted their forbears? Perish the thought! "We consider," they declared, "that if a Jewish gabardine is to be cleaned by American Boards of Education the stain should likewise be removed from the Scottish kilt." And if there are no reliable cleaners in the U.S.A. it should be sent to Perth.
The example thus nobly set is being widely followed. The members of the Southern Jazz-band Union met yesterday way down in Tennessee, and passed a resolution demanding the elimination of Othello from the educational curriculum. The proposer declared with some heat that "no coloured gentleman would spifflicate his missus wid a bolster on de word of a mean white thief like dat Iago." The mere suggestion was dam foolishness and an insult to the most prominent section of the freeborn citizens of the U.S.A. "If dey gwine whitewash de Scotchman, why not de man ob colour too?"
At a representative meeting of Welshmen Mr. Jones ap Jones moved that, as a protest against Shakspeare's treatment of Fluellen and the Cymric vegetable symbol, Henry V. "be no longer taught in Welsh schools or read at Jesus College, Oxford, whateffer."
At a recent meeting of the S.P.R. it was proposed by Sir A. Conan Doyle, of Oliver Lodge, Ether, Surrey, "that the Board of Education be asked, in the interests of scientific truth, to suspend the teaching of Hamlet until the scenes in which the Ghost appears shall have been emended in the light of modern research by a committee of psychical experts appointed for the purpose. The proposer quoted the line spoken by Hamlet to the apparition:—
"Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd,"
and said he would like to substitute for it, "Be thou a subjective hallucination arising from an uprush of inhibited emotional disturbance from the subliminal consciousness, or the objectivisation of a telepathic communication from the extra-corporeal sphere of being, or, finally, a manifestation to sensory perception of some supra-normal undulatory movement of the ether."
He had always deprecated, he said, the meddling of untrained amateurs with the details of psychic phenomena, and felt that the rule should be made retrospective. An amendment was carried to add Julius Cæsar and Richard III. to the motion for similar reasons.
The Labour Party have decided to ask Mr. Fisher to ban Coriolanus on the ground that many of the speeches of the chief character betray an anti-democratic bias, out of keeping with the ideals that should be set before the rising generation. Phrases like "The mutable rank-scented many," applied to the proletariat, could only foster the bourgeois prejudices of jaundiced reactionaries and teach the young scions of the capitalist classes to look down upon the manual worker.
"For Sale Black Ebony Gentleman's Shaving Outfit."—Local Paper.
We gather that our coloured brother is about to grow a beard.
Lady (buying music). "Oh, and have you got 'A Lover in Damascus'?"
New Girl. "Well, Ma'am, my fiancé was in Mespot, but he's back in Brixton now."
MODERN MOON-RAKERS.
Porta, the once notorious Michigander, Who launched the now exploded solar slander, Whereat ten thousand negroes stood aghast, In one short month into oblivion passed, But Pickering's momentous lunar screed Proves the persistence of this wondrous breed. Yet this in Pickering's favour let us state: He has no scare or scandal to relate— Nothing in any way that may impugn The credit or the morals of the moon; And on the other hand it does attract us To learn that she is growing sage and cactus. Hardly romantic vegetables, these, And not so edible as good green cheese Which nursery rhymers (banned by Montessori) Associated with the lunar story. Still Pickering's vegetable views are tame Contrasted with Professor Goddard's aim; For he, as from the daily Press we learn, An obvious plagiarist of good Jules Verne, Would have us build a Bertha fat enough To send a charge of high explosive stuff Across the intervening seas of space Bang into Luna's unoffending face. Meanwhile our own alert star-gazing chief, Dyson (Sir Frank), is rather moved to grief Than anger by the astronomic pranks Played by unbalanced professorial cranks, Who study science in the wild-cat vein And "ruin along the illimitable inane."
The New Naval Uniform.
"For Sale, Naval Cadet's (R.N.) Mess-dress; 39 inches side seam; pair cricket boots, purple velour hat, grey chiffon velvet dress."—Daily Paper.
"Suede Turnip, best varieties."—Advt. in Tasmanian Paper.
No kid about this offer.
"Wanted, at once, respectable Man for Polishing Porter."—Daily Paper.
The manners of some of our porters notoriously leave much to be desired.
MORE ADVENTURES OF A POST-WAR SPORTSMAN.
A SLIGHT ACCIDENT SECURES HIM A PERSONAL INTRODUCTION TO THE MASTER.