Volume 152 — ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS.
Reading edition
"SCRUTATOR TEMPORIS ACTI."—You are not the only one who holds that Parliament could not be better or more patriotically occupied at the present stage of the War than in devoting their energies to a discussion of the Report of the Dardanelles Commission and the detailed evidence on which it was based. We understand that your view is shared by all the keenest patriots among the Central Powers.
"TUBER CAIN."—The earliest poet to sing of rationing was WILLIAM MORRIS, who repeatedly described himself as "The idle singer of an empty day."
"A LOVER OF 'BUSTER BROWN.'"—We gladly gave publicity to your indignant denial of any tribal relationship between "Buster Brown" and Filibuster STONE.
"Miss Adela Pankhurst attempted to-day at the Midland Junction, a strong Labour centre, to deliver a lecture directed against Mr. Lloyd George and Mr. Hughes.
The audience sang her down with 'Rule Britannia' and 'Australia 5s. a box."—Pall Mall Gazette.
The latter song, no doubt, alluding to the entrance-fee charged by the famous Boxing Kangaroo.
CENTRAL ISOLATION.
GERMAN KAISER. "YOU'RE ABOUT THE ONLY ONE LEFT FOR ME TO TALK TO."
KING OF SPAIN. "AND I'M NOT FEELING VERY CHATTY."
[It is reported that communication between Berlin and America has been interrupted.]
Tommy. "HAVE YER GOT NOTHIN' TO DO ONLY WATCH US WORKING?" Loafer. "NO."
Tommy. "THEN YER LOOK LIKE HAVIN' A THUNDERIN' IDLE TIME WHEN WE MOVE FROM HERE, DON'T YER?"
THE FIRST WHIP.
As I wandered home By Hedworth Combe I heard a lone horse whinny, And saw on the hill Stand statue-still At the top of the old oak spinney A rough-haired hack With a girl on his back, And "Hounds!" I said, "for a guinea." The wind blew chill Over Larchley Hill, And it couldn't have blown much colder; Her nose was blue And her pigtails two Hung damply over her shoulder; She might have been ten, Or, guessing again, She might have been twelve months older. To a tight pink lip She pressed her whip, By way of imposing quiet; I bowed my head To the word unsaid, Accepting the lady's fiat, And noted the while Her Belvoir style As she rated a hound for riot. A lean form leapt O'er the fence and crept Through the ditch, with his thief's heart quaking; But the face of the maid No hint betrayed That she noticed the brambles shaking, Till she saw him clear Of her one wild fear— The chance of his backward breaking. Then dainty and neat She rose in her seat That the better her eyes might follow Where a shadow of brown Over Larchley Down Launched out like a driving swallow; And she quickened his speed Through bunch-grass and weed, With a regular Pytchley holloa! Raging they came Like a torrent of flame— There were nineteen couple and over, And a huntsman grey Who blew them away With the note of a true hound-lover, While his Whip sat back On her rough old hack And called to the last in covert. Then cramming down flat Her quaint little hat, And shaking the old horse together, She was off like a bird, And the last that I heard Was a "Forrard!" that died in the heather, As she took up her place At the tail of the chase Like a ten-season lord of the leather. W.H.O.
"In those same eighteen days, Sir Edward tells us, 607 ships of over a hundred tons arrived and 5,873 left our shores. A German newspaper, it seems, has been asserting that the mere terror of the submarine has swept the seas clean at one blow. Twelve thousand ships, in and out, in eighteen days, does not look, Sir Edward dryly remarked, so very like paralysis."—The Times.
Our Thunderer seems to have imitated its Bosch contemporary, for it has swept the seas of some 6,000 ships by a stroke of the pen.
"THE SPECTATOR" AND "THE TRADE."
A PAINFUL RUMOUR.
Last week one of our representatives had the honour of calling at the offices of The Spectator to inquire into the credibility of certain strange rumours that have recently been current in The Trade. They were to the effect that Mr. ST. LOE STRACHEY, Editor of The Spectator, having gallantly volunteered under the National Service Scheme, had had allotted to him, by one of the DIRECTOR-GENERAL'S subordinates, a post of national importance at Messrs. Bassopp's Brewery. Mr. STRACHEY'S fertile and forcible pen was (so the rumour went) to be employed by this firm in the drawing up of some pungent advertisements under the headings, "The Weakness of the Water Movement," "Up, Glasses!" etc., including a verse series, in Horatian alcoholics, entitled, "Bonnie D.T."
It was reported that in the ironic circumstances in which he found himself, Mr. STRACHEY felt it his duty to acquiesce loyally in the change of view imposed upon him, and to adopt a policy of "Down, Spectators!"
Our representative is happy to state that he has the highest authority for giving an unqualified denial to these sinister allegations.
From a description of a wedding-breakfast:—
"The toast of the presents was also duly honoured."—South African Paper.
After all, next to the bride and bridegroom they are perhaps the most important feature.
"Field Glasses, powerful magnification; sacrifice, 37/6; cost £175."—New Zealand Paper.
We don't know about the magnification, but the diminution is most remarkable.