THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE Ex Libris ISAAC FOOT This book is supplied by MESSRS. SMITH, Elder & Co. to Booksellers on terms which will not admit of their allowing a discount from the advertised price. HUMOURS OF THE FRAY BY THE SAME AUTHOR THE HAWARDEN HORACE MORE HAWARDEN HORACE LIFE AND LETTERS OF SIR GEORGE GROVE THE DIVERSIONS OF A MUSIC-LOVER WITH E. V. LUCAS WISDOM WHILE YOU WAIT ENGLAND DAY BY DAY CHANGE FOR A HALFPENNY SIGNS OF THE TIMES JHUMOURS OF THE FRAY RHYMES AND RENDERINGS BY ^^^^ CHARLES I? GRAVES Jit LONDON SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 1907 lAll rights reserved.! * Happy the man Who, when he can't prevent foul play, Enjoys the folly of the fray.' Matthew Green {The Spleen) TO A. G. NOTE My acknowledgments are due to the editors of The Spectator and The Speaker, and to the proprietors of Punch, the Cornhill Magazine and Temple Bar for kindly granting me leave to reprint verses which have already appeared in these periodicals. The lines to Richard Strauss are reprinted by permission of Messrs. Macmillan from a volume of musical essays published by them in 1904, and if any ' listener's lure ' is to be found in * The Caruso Carols,' ' The Two Desperadoes,' and two or three other pieces included under the heading Fair Game,' that result must be attributed to the inspiring assistance of my literary better half, Mr. E. V. Lucas. C. L. G. November, igoy. CONTENTS PAGE LINES ON A RECENT NEWSPAPER ANNIVERSARY. , i MAMMON AT THE WHEEL 4 AUTRES TEMPS, AUTRES MCEURS 6 FISCAL FRENZY 10 ELEGIAC STANZAS 13 A MALWOOD ECLOGUE 15 'PARTIAL PORTRAITS' TO LORD CROMER 25 TO MEREDITH TOWNSEND 26 TO ANDREW LANG 28 TO LIONEL BENSON 30 TO ANTHONY HOPE 33 TO RICHARD STRAUSS 35 ARCADES AMIiO 3S viii HUMOURS OF THE FRAY HOLIDAY RHYMES I'AGE ADIEU TO ARGYLL -IS OTIUM MARINUM 47 THE ORDEAL OF CHOICE 50 LINES ON THE LINKS 53 THOUGHTS ON DRINK IN TIME OF DROUGHT 56 ON SOME CORNISH NAMES 60 MELODIES DU SIECLE ODE TO DISCORD 65 STANZAS SUGGESTED BY A NEW SYMPHONIC POEM 68 JUMBOMANIA 71 THE CRY OF THE BRITISH COMPOSER . . • 74 THE CARUSO CAROLS 77 :ONTENTS ix FAIR GAME PAGE A MODERN NABOB 8i JOHN BULL JUNIOR 85 THE GOLFER'S WIFE . 87 THE NEW MOTHER 90 THE END OF EVOLUTION 94 MILES GLORIOSUS -97 DREAMS A LA DRUMONT 100 BACK TO THE LAND 103 DE SENECTUTE 105 THE GOLFER'S PROTEST 107 THE BRIGHT ROSALEEN "o ETHICAL CLOTHING "3 THE TWO DESPERADOES "6 DANGEROUS DECLARATIONS "9 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY RENDERINGS FROM THE ROMAIC PAGE THE FREEDOM OF THE PRESS 125 THE BRAGGART 128 A VISION OF DRAGATZAN 132 ON A BLIND AND CAPTIVE NIGHTINGALE . . 136 THE EXILE 139 LINES ON A RECENT NEWSPAPER ANNIVERSARY Ten years ago the daily Press, Still scorning methods Transatlantic, Though overprone to blame or bless, Was never coarsely corybantic. Its managers disdained to tout For customers like Yankee ' drummers,' Or pad their leading column out By interviewing fifth-rate mummers. The antics of the idle rich Had not acquired a moral beauty ; No eulogies of strident pitch Profaned a simple act of duty. The scholar w^ho seclusion prized, The benefactor of the nation, As yet remained unvictimised By reams of rancid adulation. B HUMOURS OF THE FRAY To laud all people when they die With undiscriminating unction, To squeeze precocious talent dry, Then chuck it out without compunction, To hold all privacy a pest, To treat the old as useless lumber, To worship with impartial zest Mammon and God in every number ; To drag unsightly deeds to light, To traffic in a private sorrow. To libel Ministers o'ernight And lick their boots upon the morrow — Such are the methods, such the means, Unknown to Chinamen or Chilians, Whereby in more enlightened scenes Some men amass ignoble millions. # * * * Ah me ! those were Saturnian days. Though highly unsophisticated. When papers went their several ways And were not all amalgamated. When heroes of the bat, like Daft, Had not as yet become quill-drivers. And playwrights were not photographed In the attire of South Sea divers. A RECENT NEWSPAPER ANNIVERSARY 3 In those dark days man still was man, The super still remained a super, And publishers — unholy clan ! — Had not provoked the howls of Hooper. The Times^ unswervingly sedate, Still thundered, when it thundered, soberly ; The Bells of London, small or great. Knew little of the massive Moberly. Ten years ago ! We little knew The scurvy trick that Fate was playing. When first the yellow cockerel crew And set each Union Jackass braying — Broke down the walls of reverence. Debased an honourable calling;. And drowned the sober voice of sense In one continual caterwauling. Ten years have passed. Will Fate delay Ten more until the pest is banished. Or shall we on some earlier day. Awake to find the monster vanished ? The Future lies beyond our ken. The Present stirs our indignation. And forces from one lowly pen This humble meed of execration. May, 1906. B 2 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY MAMMON AT THE WHEEL Swathed like a mummy in his furs Sits Mammon at the wheel, And onward, ever onward spurs His steed of flame and steel. The monster moans and hums and purrs, And, as the life within it stirs. Makes ready for its meal. The song-bird, stricken in mid air. It grinds into the mire ; The squirrel scurrying to its lair Dies 'neath the deadly tyre ; And golden summer's pageant rare That makes the hedgerows fine and fair It blasts with smoke and fire. And, as its note of savage pride Is tuned to screaming pitch, Age, bent and bowed and heavy-eyed, It spurns into the ditch. Digging more deep at cv'ry stride The gulf, already yawning wide, Between the poor and rich. MAMMON AT THE WHEEL No open road remains secure From Mammon's fell attack ; No obstacle can he endure, No warning turns him back ; But racing over down and moor He turns the playground of the poor Into a railway track. He taints the freshness of the dawn, The fragrance of the night, The veil by dewy darkness drawn He rends with blinding light. And nymph and dryad, fay and faun. Flee from his hateful pathway, strawn With trophies of his might. And yet, should Mammon ever deign To take me in his car. The maggot works within my brain, I chafe at check and bar ; I reck not of the maimed and slain ; I only know that I am fain To travel fast and far. HUMOURS OF THE FRAY AUTRES TEMPS, AUTRES MCEURS. In musing o'er the distant days Ere crinoline was wholly banished, Ere problems superseded plays, Ere chignons and macadam vanished, I marvel how our sires contrived To win themselves a name in story Before those crowning boons arrived That lend our age its lasting glory. Unstirred by Kipling's clarion tones They led a life of chronic coma. They neither heard the motor's moans Nor sniffed its exquisite aroma. Their phraseology displayed As yet no scientific leaning, Nor was the term 'appendix ' made To bear its fearsome inner meaning. AUTRES TEMPS, AUTRES MCEURS 7 As for their views on hygiene, Why nothing surely could be vaguer ; They were not fed on margarine Or garbed in wool by Dr. Jaeger ; With claret or brown sherry flown Their freshmen would affront the Proctor, For whisky was almost unknown, And no one drank Berncastler Doctor. They hadn't matinees — so-called — They saw a play and not a hat-show. And people, on becoming bald, Were still denied recourse to Tatcho. Unstimulated by Ping-pong, They lacked an indoor recreation, Nor uttered ' Now we shan't be long ' To decorate their conversation. They could not worship Sherlock Holmes^ For his inventor was not ready : They knew not Alfred Austin's pomes. Or lager beer or Mrs. Eddy. Drear was the lot, minus the Mail^ Of soldier, sailor, ploughboy, tinker ; And worse, whenever they grew pale, They had no pills to make them pinker. 8 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Simply because they lived too soon, They neither rode abroad on Humbers, Nor joyed to hear the gentle coon Proclaim his love in honeyed numbers. From realism removed afar, They had a simple taste in fiction. The James they read was G. P. R., Not Henry of the Delphic diction. Girls were unmuscular and meek When they were drawn by Mrs. Gaskell, Not yet with driver nor with cleek Did they propel the bounding Haskell. They did not live alone in flats, Play hockey, shoot, and swim like otters, Evince surprise by crying ' Rats ! ' Or call their male acquaintance ' rotters.' Drab was the age and unillumed By Wilhelm's meteoric capers ; There were no boomsters to be boomed In any of the morning papers ; Cricket was still a childish game, And not a penman's serious study. Nor yet had football leapt to fame By making those who played it muddy. AUTRES TEMPS, AUTRES MCEURS 9 Last, if they ventured forth from home To seek surroundings less unsightly, They took three days to get to Rome — We see th' Eternal City nightly. They merely touched in volumes three Life's superficial fringe and frillings At thirty-one-and-six, but we Hob-nob with Satan for six shillings. November, 1903. 10 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY FISCAL FRENZY An Echo of the Campaign of 1903. As I let my spirit wander retrospectively and ponder On the problems and the marvels of our age, From the misty past uprising certain incidents surprising My amazement in particular engage. I have known a hansom cabby (though he was extremely shabby) To refuse a more than statutory fare. I have seen two Russian poodles in the billiard-room at Boodle's With wreaths of orange-blossoms in their hair. I have watched a Shetland pony chewing strings of macaroni ; I have heard a Bishop sing a comic song ; I have seen a Judge endeavour — O it was a joy for ever — To acquire a back-hand service at ping-pong. FISCAL FRENZY ii I have seen a Bond Street tailor motor-biking in a trailer ; I have seen an Archimandrite w^ith the mumps ; I have heard Sir Robert GifFen, as he munched a Norfolk biffin, Expatiate upon the phrase, ' She bumps.' These incidents vi^ere serious, but they were not dele- terious To the calmness and composure of my soul ; For though certainly erratic they w^ere hardly symptomatic Of the ruin of the nation's self-control. But vi^hen sober evening papers in their preferential capers Take to quoting Milton's Lycidas on Joe — Well, one feels that things are tending to the cataclysmic ending That involves the Empire's utter overthrow. For, until the recent crisis cut the Unionists to slices And dislodged the weary wobbler from his fence, I have never seen my fellows ply exaggeration's bellows To a climax of inflation so intense. 12 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Such emotion corybantic, so fanatical and frantic, Fills my bosom with unutterable pain ; So I'm off to far Glengariff, where, remote from tax and tariff, I shall rusticate till editors grow sane. 13 ELEGIAC STANZAS Being Rejlections^ hy a highly-strung Tory, on the Eccentricities of Parliamentary Nomenclature. England, why count upon claiming The nations' continued respect, When euphony's laws in the naming Of Members you grossly neglect ? It may be that I have, unduly Developed, the musical bump. But surnames like Crooks or Gilhooly, They give me the hump. 1 haven't the smallest objection To hearing a spade called a spade By the violent friends of Protection Or the truculent foes of Fair Trade ; My appetite's normal ; on porridge My fast ev'ry morning I break ; But when Balfour was ousted by Horridge It made my heart ache. 14 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY When political bruiser meets bruiser And one of the parties is ' downed,' A querulous tone in the loser Won't help him to win the next round. But when you are in for a licking Because of the pendulum's swing, If the name of your victor's McMicking It adds to the sting. I rep-ard the encroachment of Labour Without one disquieting qualm ; The return of my gasfitting neighbour I treat with a dignified calm ; The humour of Samuel Gerridge In Caste I have always admired ; But the advent of Horridge and Berridge — That makes me feel tired ! Some Parliaments, history teaches. Have earned a continuing fame By their length, or the strength of their speeches, By glory, or even by shame ; But this, while there's mustard in Norwich, And while there are pigs in Athlone, By the triumph of Berridge and Horridge Will surely be known. January, 1906. 15 A MALWOOD ECLOGUE [Prompted in June, 1896, by the entirely baseless rumour that Sir \V. Harcourt, in the sylvan solitudes of the New Forest and beneath the giant beeches of Malwood — ' recubans sub tegmine fagi ' — was preparing a new edition of Virgil.] Ye Muses of Monmouth, permit me, I pray. To abandon the leek for the loftier bay. And renounce, while I fathom futurity's vista. E'en so regal a shrub as the planta genista : Yet if trees be my burden, O graciously grant My song may the grandest of woodmen enchant. As I stand peering over the century's verge, Weird shapes from the womb of the future emerge : POLLIO Sicelides Musce, pauIo majora canamus ; Non omnes arbusta juvant humilesque myrica : Si canimus sylvas, sylva; sint Consule dignae. Ultima Cumaei venit jam carminis ?etas : Magnus ab integro sreclorum nascitur ordo. Jam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna ; i6 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY New Women I see, of inordinate nous^ Returned to recruit an effeminate House, While a fresh and entirely regenerate race Shall our decadent sons and their sisters replace. Nay, e'en at this moment, so drear and forlorn, Is the Leader we long for about to be born ! O cherish him tenderly, good Mrs. Gamp, And guard the first flickering rays of his lamp, For beneath his benign and inspiriting sway The wildest Welsh members shall meekly obey, A^nd the iron that recently entered ovir soul Turn to golden content as we march to our goal. O fortunate bantling ! the great ' Mr. G.' Will probably give you a ride on his knee, Guide your faltering steps in the way they should go, And gratuitous hints for the future bestow. Till in fulness of time compensation is paid For the bulls and the blunders that R made ; Jam nova progenies ccelo demittitur alto. Tu modo nascenti puero, quo ferrea primum Desinet ac toto surget gens aurea mundo, Casta fave Lucina ; tuus jam regnat Apollo. Teque adeo decus hoc xv'i, te Consule, inibit, PoUio, et incipient magni procedere menses : Te duce, si qua manent sceleris vestigia nostri, Irrita perpetua solvent formidine terras. A MALWOOD ECLOGUE 17 Till, immersed in theology, ev'ry M.P. On the Liberal benches becomes a D.D. And our Leader, buoyed up with legitimate pride. Finds only the angels arrayed on his side. In your childhood, sweet babe, shall the generous earth Bring all manner of gifts to spontaneous birth. Thus the rarest of orchids that Highbury boasts Shall enamel our uplands and colour our coasts ; While the broadest of beans shall profusely abound Hodge's bacon to beautify all the year round. The chimerical cow that was promised by Jesse, Shall be there with her milk and three acres in esse^ And the merciless lions of Fleet Street no more Stun the ears of the mob with mechanical roar. Of itself shall your cradle by magic assume A garb of the rarest and tenderest bloom ; lUe deum vitam accipiet, divisque videbit Permixtos heroas, et ipse videbitur illis ; Pacatumque reget patriis virtutibus orbem. At tibi prima, puer, nuUo munuscula cultu Errantes hederas passim cum bacchaie tellus Mixtaque ridenti colocasia fundet acantho. Ipsse lacte domum referent distenta capellte Ubera, nee magnos metuent armenta leones. Ipsa tibi blandos fundent cunabula flores. Occidet et serpens, et fallax herba veneni Occidet ; Assyrium vulgo nascetur amomum. i8 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Ev'ry snake shall be scotched, nor will any excuse Be allowed for distilling of Parnellite juice. And a constant aurora of sweetness and light Steep the sky to the zenith from morning till night. By the time you are able, now grown to a boy, In the pages of Hansard to read and enjoy The orations of those who, as firm as a rock, Fought the closure so gallantly all round the clock — No more shall the farmer, with Chaplin's assistance. Keep the wolf of Free Trade at an adequate distance For his wheat as by magic shall ripen unsown, And grapes upon blackberry bushes be grown. And the vintage of Ventnor, the cms of the Tyne, Vie in bouquet and body with those of the Rhine ; While honey will flow in Hyde Park from the trees Without the conventional efforts of bees. At simul heroum laudes et facta parentis Jam legere, et qute sit poteris cognoscere virtus, Molli pauUatim flavescet campus arista, Incultisque rubens pendebit sentibus uva, Et durse quercus sudabunt roscida mella. Pauca tamen suberunt prises vestigia fraudis, Quae tentare Thetin ratibus, quce cingere muri Oppida, quae jubeant telluri infindere sulcos. Alter erit turn Tiphys, et altera quK vehat Argo Delectos heroas : erunt ctiam altera bella ; Atque iterum ad Trojam magnus uiittetur Achilles. A MALWOOD ECLOGUE 19 Still perfection can never be reached at a bound, And traces of guilt for a while shall be found. Buccaneers will continue to run their blockades, Filibusters indulge in occasional raids, And Presidents form, at enormous expense, Pretorian guards for their country's defence. Should war be declared, the occasion will breed New Nelsons to answer our nautical need ; While if our opponents should venture to land, A new Iron Duke will be ready to hand. And maintain the imperilled prestige of the nation As he steams in a ' special ' from Waterloo Station. But when our new Leader to manhood is come, Ev'ry sword shall be sheathed, ev'ry trumpet be dumb. No trafficking hulls o'er the ocean shall fare, No bagmen from city to city repair. For ev'rything needful will grow ev'rywhere. Hinc, ubi jam firmata virum te fecerit setas, Cedet et ipse mari vector ; nee nautica pinus Mutabit merces ; omnis feret omnia tellus. Non rastros patietur humus, non vinea falcem ; Robustus quoque jam tauris juga solvet arator ; Nee varies discet mentiri lana colores ; Ipse sed in pratis aries jam suave rubenti Murice, jam croceo mutabit vellera luto ; Sponte sua sandyx pascentes vestiet agnos. C 2 20 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Then, relieved from the annual labours of sowing, Of ploughing and stacking, of reaping and hoeing, Ev'ry son of the soil, whether stupid or clever. Will be free to do nothing for ever and ever : As for weavers and dyers, they'll find, the poor fellows. Their whole occupation is gone, like Othello's. For the rams in the field, if you ask them politely, Will furnish all colours and patterns, like Whiteley : And the frolicking lamb, as the grasses he chews. Assume the most gorgeous of Liberty's hues. * O ages of bliss,' sang the Sisters of Doom, Each addressing her spindle, * continue to boom.' For lo ! the young Leader we long for, whose face Betrays his descent from a conquering race. Will shortly take over the duties of chief, And advance to our composite Party's relief. See, with joy at his coming the welkin resounds. And the land and the sea, to their uttermost bounds. Talia ssecla, suis dixerunt, currite, fusis Concordes stabili fatorum numine Parcje. Aggredere o magnos (aderit jam tempus) honores, Cara deum soboles, magnum Jovis incrementum ! Adspice convexo nutantem pondere mundum, Terrasque tractusque maris coelumque profundum ; Adspice, venturo la:;tentur ut omnia skcIo ! O mihi tarn longas maneat pars ultima vitoe, A MALWOOD ECLOGUE 21 Are stirred with a deep elemental delight Now the joys of Utopia are fairly in sight. And O, should kind Chamberlain, merciful sage, Prolong by a Pension my sanguine Old Age, Until I were able at last to acclaim In appropriate measures your v/orth and your fame, — Why, the stateliest stanzas that Tennyson built Won't compare with my verse's impetuous lilt. I shall soar above Swinburne, outshine even Shelley, Out-Hall even Caine and out-Marie Corelli : Nay, should Austin himself in a contest engage At the gilded Alhambra, and sing from the stage, I'm sure the Alhambra's decision would be That Austin was finally flattened by me. Spiritus et quantum sat erit tua dicere facta ; Non me carminibus vincet nee Thracius Orpheus, Nee Linus ; huic mater quamvis atque huic pater adsit, Orphei Calliopea, Lino formosus Apollo. Pan etiam Arcadia mecum si judice certet, Pan etiam Arcadia dicat se judice victum. PARTIAL PORTRAITS ' 25 TO LORD CROMER. Great are the wonders that thy Kings of yore, O ancient Egypt, reared beside the Nile — Palace and pyramid and storied pile To stand in majesty for evermore : Yet where is wonder greater than the reign Of this wise Governor, who, trained for war, Laid healing hands upon a nation's sore, And stablished peace with plenty in her train ? O ancient Egypt, by whose sleepless flood Yon mighty fanes uprose in ages dim. Cemented by ten myriad toilers' blood, — Which of thy rulers may compare with him Who raised the poor, undid the oppressor's wrong, And set the throne of Justice high and strong ? April 17, 1907. 26 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY TO MEREDITH TOWNSEND On his Seventieth Birthday. Master and friend, whose ardent soul Burns brighter as it nears the goal, Whose indefatigable pen Stirs envy in us younger men — Let one who owes you such a debt He ne'er can pay, far less forget, Essay to greet with heartfelt cheer The day that seals your seventieth year. To paint your merits even ill Might tax a major poet's skill, And therefore must be doubly hard For one who is a doggerel bard. Yet let me try. First, then, we find, Rare glory of a noble mind, Genius with modesty combined. TO MEREDITH TOWNSEND 27 Next, courage to defend the right And put sleek sophistries to flight ; Steadfast devotion to a cause Heedless of censure or applause ; Last, wielding powers most men had turned To claim a guerdon richly earned, You crave not place nor pelf nor state, Content to sow the seed and wait, To guide unseen, obscurely great. Intrepid seer, long may you keep Your ample outlook o'er the deep ; Long flash o'er life's uncertain ways Your soul's illuminating rays ; Long hail with generous praise the birth And strivings of aspiring worth ; Long cheer and brighten and beguile Our tedium with your magic style. 28 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY TO ANDREW LANG AT THE SIGN OF THE SHIP On the discontinuance of ' Longman s Magazine* in October^ 1906. Formerly, when, sated by sensation. Gentle readers sought an air serene, Refuge from the snapshot's domination Might be found in Longman s Magazine. There at least the roaring cult of dollars Never took its devastating way ; There the pens of gentlemen and scholars Held their uncontaminating sway. There no parasitic bookman prated, No malarious poetasters sang, There all themes were touched and decorated By your nimble fancy, Andrew Lang. TO ANDREW LANG 29 True, some hobbies you were always riding, — Spooks and spies and totemistic lore ; But so deft, so dext'rous was your guiding. No one ever labelled you a bore. But alas ! the landmarks that we cherish, Standing for the earlier, better way. Vanquished by vulgarity must perish. Overthrown by 'enterprise,' decay. Still with fairy books will you regale us. Still pay homage to the sacred Nine, But no more hereafter will you hail us Monthly at the Ship's familiar Sign. There no longer faithfully and gaily Will you deal alike with foe and friend ; Wherefore, crying Ave atque vale ! We our parting salutation send. 30 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY TO LIONEL BENSON At the twenty-first annual concert of the Magpie Madrigal Society. Dear Lionel, this classic day That crowns the labours of the season, Demands the tribute of a lay — And for a very special reason. Magpies till now on history's page Were merely noted as luck bringers ; But you and we have come of age. We are no longer minor singers. Had I the quill of Grote, or Mill,— The eloquence of Hensley Henson, — In flowing prose I might compose A eulogy of Lionel Benson. But conscious that I cannot climb Above the plane of humble platitude. Let me essay in lowly rhyme To give expression to our gratitude. TO LIONEL BENSON 31 No sinecure your post has been As trainer of our piebald forces ; For Magpies oftentimes are seen To stray from proper vocal courses. We have not always kept our eyes Upon the stick, and there's no blinking The fact that, when a Magpie tries, It has a fatal knack of sinking. Your choice of music may not quite Have always gratified all sections. But in the end we owned you right, And learned to share your predilections ; And those who voted Brahms a bore. Or found him too austere or tragic. Long since their heresy forswore. And yielded to his sovran magic. You favoured neither old nor new In furthering our education, But with a zeal impartial drew On every school and every nation. With you we hymned the spacious reign Of Oriana, maid imperial. And ranged from Lasso's freakish strain To Palestrina the ethereal. 32 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY All styles in turn attention claimed — The academic and the hectic ; Sure programmes never yet were framed More catholic or more eclectic. Nor have we shown in scores alone Our unexampled versatility, Dead and alive, the tongues are five That own our polyglot agility. Unsparing of your time and skill, Alert to criticise abuses, Home truths you often told us ; still, We gave you manifold excuses. Yet though we sometimes stirred your ire By " scooping," or by slipshod phrasing. You were most ready to admire If we did anything worth praising. But, since this rhyme must have an end, Let all who cherish this Society Impress upon our Chief — and friend — To persevere in his Magpiety ! Long may we see him, undismayed Though basses bolt and tenors flatten, Conduct his Black and White brigade To victory with unflinching baton. May 30, 1906. 33 TO ANTHONY HOPE After reading ' The Intrusions of Peggy.' Good Anthony (I need not say We always pardon your ' intrusions '), I've read your book, and wish to lay Before you some of my conclusions. Where other heroines are concerned I pay my homage quite discreetly, But charming Peggy Ryle has turned My head, and captured me completely. Of her attractions to indite Is not the purpose of these stanzas ; Enough that, if her purse was light. Her face and heart were both Bonanzas. Enough to hazard the surmise — Most cheering in this vale of trouble — That somewhere under English skies Peggy must have a living double. D 34 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY She had her failings, I admit, Professed a creed remote from Tupper's, And oft unchaperoned would sit At very late Bohemian suppers. But she was innocent of guile, She softened hearts, however stony ; She helped the lame dog o'er the stile, And shared a windfall with a crony. Imagine then my state or mind. My curiosity unsated, When reaching the last page I find Peggy remains unmatched, immated ! O tantalising Mr. Hope, Your endings only are beginnings ; Give your invention further scope. Give Peggy Ryle another innings ! 35 TO RICHARD STRAUSS Great anarch, whose truculent numbers, Abounding in Donner and B/itz, Have startled the dead from their slumbers, And frightened the quick into fits ; All hail, O ineffable hero, Of statue so terribly tall, Ev'ry other composer from Nero To Sousa looks small ! Our innocent fathers, adoring The simple Handelian theme. Knew not that elaborate scoring All absence of thought could redeem. But the epoch of Halles and Hullahs Is long irretrievably flown. And the maddest of musical Mullahs Is monarch alone. D2 36 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Beguiled by the obsolete fiction That Art was intended to please, We cherished the crazy conviction That Discord was kin to Disease ; Now, spurning the base and insidious And honeyed allurements of Tune, We welcome at last in the Hideous Art's ultimate boon. We are faint with insatiate hunger For food that is racy and rank ; O ransom us, Richard the Younger, From life that is blameless and blank ! Breathe on us the blast of the blizzard ; Pour poisonous drugs in our cup ; Stick pins in us, down to the gizzard, j A nd make us sit up ! j Too long have we slavishly swallowed Mild Mendelssohn's saccharine Psalms ; Too long have contentedly followed The footsteps of Wagner and Brahms. O free us from all that is formal ; O banish the ways that are plain ; Eliminate all that is normal. And make us insane. TO RICHARD STRAUSS 37 We are cloyed with the cult of the Russian ; We are sick of the simple, the bland ; We long for persistent percussion, For brass that is gruesomely grand. O teach us that Discord is Duty That Melody maketh for Sin, Come down and redeem us from Beauty Great Despot of Din ! 38 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY ARCADES AMBO. Blest pair, though a seventh-rate singer Should never essay the sublime, Pray suffer a humble ink-slinger To ' voice ' his emotion in rhyme : For thus I may possibly show you, O w^holly unparalleled tw^ain, The depth of the debt that I owe you, Corelli and Caine. When gooseberries grow to gigantic Dimensions, and Worms of the Wave, Descried in the distant Atlantic, Attention insistently crave ; When editors, pallid and ailing. Forget to be bland and urbanei You come as a solace unfailing, Corelli and Caine. ARCADES AMBO 39 Whenever I'm gravelled for copy, Whenever I'm short of a * par,' Whenever my verses are sloppy (And that they incessantly are), When foreign imbroglios tire me. When scandals are scarce in Park Lane, You're always at hand to inspire me, Corelli and Caine. There are some who know nothing of Huggins, There are some who know little of Crookes ; But I cannot believe in the Juggins Who never has heard of your books. (Unless on the bench one or two are So hopelessly dense and inane As to ask such a question as ' Who are Corelli and Caine ? ') The poet asserts that Apollo His bow now and then must unbend, And latter-day mortals must follow This excellent rule to the end. From cutting continual capers Ev'n Kaisers must sometimes refrain ; But you re never out of the papers, Corelli and Caine. 40 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Then, whether on Clicquot and chickens Or Plasmon and water we fare, To the champions of Shakspeare and Dickens Let us throw up our caps in the air : Let us go, like the monarch of Sheba, In search of the ways that are sane, And worship at Stratford and Greeba Corelli and Caine. HOLIDAY RHYMES 43 ADIEU TO ARGYLL Land of the purple heather, where, much to my content, Three weeks of broken weather I recently have spent. Although in panegyric I don't intend to deal. Accept this humble lyric penned by a cockney chiel. I went not to the Trossachs, where, ev'n in times of peace. Hotel-exploiting Cossacks the simple Saxon fleece ; But dexterously dodging the holidaying host, I found a modest lodging upon the Western Coast. Your climate, Caledonia, the curate's egg recalls. At times it breeds pneumonia by dint of gales and squalls ; But when the misty blanket disperses, at such times I confidently rank it among the best of climes. 44 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Your diet is most grateful, though why do people frown When I devour my plateful of porridge sitting down ? Your music is soul-shaking, with skirls and yelps and snaps. And I adore your baking of girdle-cakes and baps. I like your bare-legged caddies who, destitute of ruth, (Unlike their brother Paddies) tell me the bitter truth — That, till I mend my errors in grip and stance and swing, Golf's enervating terrors will never lose their sting. Susceptible to beauty in ev'ry form and shade I hail it as a duty to praise the Hieland maid. Whose charms throughout a broader expanse are lately blown Since breathed by Harry Lauder into the gramophone. Fair smiles the face of nature on Scotia's genial Strand, But Scotia's nomenclature is hard to understand : Joppa and Portobello a mild surprise promote, While Grogport strikes a mellow but dissipated note. ADIEU TO ARGYLL 45 Land of the sturdy thistle, land of the eagle's nest, Why do you wet your whistle with such appalling zest ? And why endure the orgies enacted year by year When Glasgow Fair disgorges its wreckage on each pier ? (A partial explanation one may perchance descry In that well-worn quotation corrupt'io optimi ; Besides, the canny Scottish, or Scot, to be more terse, If he were never sottish, might swamp the universe.) Yet why recount these stories of superficial flaws When past and present glories combine to plead your cause ? When ev'ry glen is ringing with tales of old renown. And ev'ry burn is singing how Charlie lost his crown ? I've roamed and climbed and wondered among the Western Isles, And gazed on Erin sundered by twenty foam-flecked miles ; Behind the hills of Jura I've seen the sun go down, Unseated atra cura, forgot the dusty town. 46 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Bowed down by such a burden of undeserved delight, A boon no earthly guerdon could fittingly requite, From all unworthy carping I'll willingly forbear, And quite abstain from harping upon the Glasgow Fair. So, as I cross the border where, rrowning o'er the deep. Like to an ancient warder stands Berwick's rugged keep. Reluctantly retreating to London by the mail, 1 wave regretful greeting unto the Western Gael. 47 OTIUM MARINUM By a Sea Dog-in-the-M anger. Not quite three hundred miles from town, Nor yet profaned by week-end trippers, Beneath a ridge of rolling down With velvet strands for infant dippers, I've found a holiday retreat Adapted to a small exchequer, Where the dyspeptic and effete At once regain a healthy ' pecker.' We only run to one hotel. We have no chef^ no German waiters. And yet our host amazing well For every taste and palate caters. His wife's a treasure who displays A perfect genius for baking ; His wines are few, but merit praise. And never set your temples aching. 48 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY The folk who haunt this favoured scene Are eminently inoffensive, Preserving a judicious mean Betwixt the rowdy and the pensive. Their stakes at Bridge are not too high To lend themselves to punctual payment ; Their daughters do not occupy The livelong day in change of raiment. No social problems here perplex, No scandals lead to comment scathing ; No blatant champions of the sex Discuss the question of mixed bathing. And, if you cannot get your Mail Before the setting hour of Phoebus, Fresh fish replace the serial tale, And new-laid eggs the breakfast rebus. Here are no telescopes, no touts. No organ-torturing invaders, No steam-rotated roundabouts. No masked mysterious serenaders. Nay, so uncultured is our set, So musically antiquated, That ' Hiawatha ' has not yet This peaceful region decimated. OTIUM MARINUM 49 The banjo's plunk is never heard, The front is void of pseudo-niggers ; To us quite equally absurd Whole-hoggers are and little-piggers. Lapped in our lotus-eating ease, Far from the bounding advertiser. We dress exactly as we please, And take no thought of Czar or Kaiser. ' Why not reveal,' I hear you say, ' The whereabouts of this oasis, And place the readers of your lay With you upon a favoured basis ? ' No, no, since here to play the dog- In-manger needs no vindication I am resolved to leave incog. Such admirable isolation. July, 1905. 50 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY THE ORDEAL OF CHOICE A Golfing Soliloquy by a "Junior Partner. Round comes July, and with it comes the need, Ordained by custom, of my annual flitting — My senior partner having so decreed — But, e'er I start, it first of all is fitting To settle whither I intend to speed ; And I have no compunction in admitting That, each successive year, the task of choosing Becomes more difficult and more confusing. Golf summons me afield ; yet who am I To weigh the claims of GuUane v. Tantallon ? To judge between Deal, Littlestone and Rye ? Portmarnock, Rosapenna and Port Salon ? Fain I would see Strathpeffer ere I die, And quaff its healing waters by the gallon ; Or view the lambent lights of the aurora Amid the bunkers and the bents of Brora. THE ORDEAL OF CHOICE 51 Some pens wax lyrical on Westward Ho ! Spite of its rushes loudly execrated. St. Andrews is supreme ; yet some I know Pronounce it overrun and overrated. Sandwich is sleepless in the dogstar's glow, And by stockbrokers somewhat devastated. Lahinch allures, albeit somewhat windy ; And there are varying views about Kilspindie. Nor are my hours of slumber docked at night By musing merely on the choice of scene. The choice of ball, its ' carry ' and its flight. Its subsequent behaviour on the green, Claim anxious thought. Last week it was the ' Kite ' ; But now comes Horace — Hutchinson, I mean — And fills me, in the Friday W.G., With hopes of Haskells costing one-and-three ! Again, shall I adopt the discs of Scaife Or stud my solid soles with nails of metal ? Alas ! here too the * cracks ' no clue vouchsafe, But differ each from each, like pot and kettle, While I, in search of guidance, fret and chafe Beneath a load of problems none can settle. I cannot even find which rule is Cocker's — To golf in trousers or in knickerbockers ! E 2 52 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY When the acknowledged experts disagree — Taylor with Braid, and Sandy Herd with Vardon — The indecision that bewilders me, A foozling layman, surely merits pardon. Were it not safer then to shun the sea And drive a captive ball in my back garden, Arranging with my housekeeper to say To callers that Fve gone to — Cruden Bay ? Stay, wliat is that I hear, what ancient lilt ? ' The Campbells,' so the organ grinds, ' are coming.' Shall I then in these sultry chambers wilt With Scotia's spell in all my pulses drumming ? I hail the omen. Jenkins, pack my kilt ! Farewell to Fashion's thraldom soul-benumbing ! The die is cast : my doubts instanter vanish ; Fm off to Campbeltown and Machrihanish. July, 1906. i 53 LINES ON THE LINKS. Hard by the biggest hazard on the course, Beneath the shelter of a clump of gorse, Secure from shots from off the heel or toe, I watch the golfers as they come and go. I see the fat financier, whose ' dunch ' Suggests too copious draughts of ' fizz ' at lunch While the lean usher, primed with ginger beer. Surmounts the yawning bunker and lies clear. I see a member of the House of Peers Within an ace of bursting into tears. When, after six stout niblick shots, his ball Lies worse than if he had not struck at all. But some in silent agony endure Misfortunes no ' recovery ' can cure, While others, even men who stand at plus. Loudly ejaculate the frequent cuss. 54 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY An aged Anglo-Indian oft I see Who waggles endlessly upon the tee, Causing impatience of the fiercest kind To speedy couples pressing from behind. Familiar also is the red-haired Pat Who plays in rain or shine without a hat, And who, whenever things are out of joint, ' Sockets ' his iron shots to cover point. Before ten-thirty, also after five. The links with lady players are alive. At otlier seasons, by the rules in force, Restricted to their own inferior course. One matron, patient in her way as Job, I've seen who nine times running missed the globe ; But then her daughter, limber maid, can smite Close on two hundred yards the bounding Kite. * * * * Dusk falls upon the bracken, bents and whins ; The careful greenkeeper removes the pins. To-morrow being Sunday, and the sward Is freed from gutty and from rubber-cored. i LINES ON THE LINKS 55 Homeward unchecked by cries of * Fore ! ' I stroll, Revolving many problems in my soul, And marvelling at the mania which bids Sexagenarians caracole like kids ; Which causes grave and reverend signiors To talk for hours of nothing but their scores. And worse, when baffled by a little ball. On the infernal deities to call ; Which brightens overworked officials' lives ; Which bores to tears their much-enduring wives ; Which fosters the consumption of white port, And many other drinks, both long and short. Who then, in face of functions so diverse. Shall call thee, golf, a blessing or a curse ? Or choose between a Balfour's predilection And Rosebery's deliberate rejection ? Not mine to judge : I merely watch and note Thy votaries as they grieve or as they gloat, Uncertain whether envy or amaze Or pity most is prompted by the craze. 56 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY THOUGHTS ON DRINK IN TIME OF DROUGHT. In Summer-time when, by the Dog-Star's aid, The Glass ascends to Eighty in the Shade, The burning Question of all Questions is : How can our Thirst be suitably allayed ? I know a Man in occult Lore immersed, Who says that Christian Science quenches Thirst : But when I met him in the Indian Plains In Strength and Length his Drinks were doubly first. Myself did as a Boy affect a Jar That held a Drink named Raspberry Vinegar : But Adults, when they try this Liquid, find The more they drink the thirstier they are. What Anglo-Indians call the ' Whisky Peg' One can no longer swallow by the Keg, Since Treves condemned the Use of Alcohol ; And Treves is not the man to pull your Leg. DRINK IN TIME OF DROUGHT 57 Cold Tea is cooling, but the Tyrant Haig, In Accents wholly the Reverse of vague Condemns Tea, Coffee, Cocoa, Chocolate, And bids us shun them as we should the Plague. Plain Water, if not carefully distilled. With pathogenic Germs is mostly filled ; Yet in the Fluid that is filtered best All Trace of Sparkle is entirely killed. Our Grandfathers, if I am not at Fault, Drank freely at all Hours of Home-brewed Malt ; But those who emulate such Habits now Descend with Speed to the ancestral Vault. The Wielders of the Willow lean, I fear. To Gin commingled with Stone Ginger Beer ; But those who covet the ' Centurion's ' Fame From this seductive Beverage steer clear. Champagne, or, for the lower Orders, Rum, Cheers the Depressed and mollifies the Glum ; But taken freely 'neath a Tropic Sky Tends to upset the Equilibrium. 58 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Hock, when the Sun is blazing at high Noon, With Seltzer Water tempered, is a Boon ; Yet we must not forget that decent Hock Is only purchased once in a blue Moon. Lime-juice, when other Liquids can't be had, Dilute with bubbling Waters is not bad : And, differing from Gin, which stunts the Growth, It may be given to a growing Lad. Good Barley Water, with a gentle Blend Of Lemon, many Medicos commend ; But, personally, I have found this Brew Though wholesome, makes for Tedium in the End. The hardy Denizens or Lancashire Affect a Tipple called Botanic Beer. I know a Man who tasted it, but he In adamantine Entrails had no Peer. Some Folk the Claims of Lager Beer advance ; But here, as elsewhere, much depends on Chance ; For Pilsen seems in latter Years to have No geographical Significance. DRINK IN TIME OF DROUGHT 59 It needs not to be said that Lemonade Is always more salubrious when home-made ; And in the golfing Championships is quaffed By Vardon, Taylor, Fernie, Herd and Braid. But Golfers, when inclined their Drives to sclaft Correct this Tendency with Shandygaif, A genial Compound much affected by The famous Yankee Skipper, Captain Ha.fi. Edward FitzGerald had a Friend named Posh, With whom he went a-yachting near the Wash ; And Posh, as Mr. Shorter lately proved, Once lived for three whole Days on Lemon Squash. More could I sing upon the Theme of Drink, — Why Men see double and when Mice seem pink ; But eighteen Quatrains of this sort of Stuff Are ample for the Present, don't you think ? 6o HUMOURS OF THE FRAY ON SOME CORNISH NAMES JVith Acknowledgments to R. E. Roberts. Fear not, Cornubia, whose enchanting borders The young and emerald Atlantic laves, That I would join those rhythmical recorders Who hymn the glories of your coves and caves. My Muse, exempt from all divine disorders, A less exacting occupation craves. I merely wish in rhyme to celebrate your Inimitable local nomenclature. Tre, Pol, and Pen — upon this simple basis What gorgeous superstructures are upreared ! Suggestive of extinct primeval races Who wild in woad across the downs careered ; Who covered up their formidable faces In one continuous wilderness of beard, Long ere the sleek suburbanite or Surreyan Came down in motor-'buses to Polurrian. ON SOME CORNISH NAMES 6i Boconnoc and Polperro and Poltesco, Chysoyster and Chytodden and Gue Graze, Bosparva, Stithians, Praze-an-Beeble, Tresco, With unfamiliar melody amaze. (The hungry tourist, picnicking al fresco^ Can scarce without a thrill on Zennor gaze.) Probus recalls the Romans, so does Par ; And Gweek may rightly end this list bizarre. 1 love your Saints, especially St. Blazey. He must have been a frank and festive soul ; Whose motto vi^as the Cornish of ' Be aisy,' Whose post was that of chaplain to King Cole. St. Gluvias' theology was hazy ; He laid no ban upon the flowing bowl ; And never did the spirit of rebellion Disturb the ministry of St. Endellion. Mawgan attracts me by its uncouth spelling (There are no piers or Pierponts on its strand) : But Mevagissey, sibilantly swelling, Sounds like a roller hissing up the sand. MuUion, remote within her ramparts dwelling, Booms forth a diapason deep and grand. And where did reefs more ominous in name Than Manacles their sad sea-harvest claim ? 62 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY But 'mid this strange and memorable muster Four names emerge triumphant from the rest Luxulyan, gleaming with exotic lustre ; Halzephron, tow'ring like a giant's crest ; Lostwithiel, blending in one fragrant cluster All the romance and magic of the West. Last, and fit cadence for a verse to die on, The noblest name in Cornwall, Marazion. And yet, believing that a foreign label Can gild the glamour of this ancient coast, Railway directors, otherwise unable To lure the vulgar pleasure-hunting host, On hoarding and on poster and time-table Of Cornwall's ' Riviera ' proudly boast — As though St. Just in Roseland need entice The lovers of the Gambler's Paradise ! MELODIES DU SIECLE 65 ODE TO DISCORD. Hence, loathed Melody, whose name recalls The mellow fluting of the nightingale In some sequestered vale. The murmur of the stream Heard in a dream. Or drowsy plash of distant waterfalls. But thou, divine Cacophony, assume Thy rightful overlordship in her room. And with Percussion's stimulating aid Expel the heavenly but no longer youthful maid. Bestir ye, minions of the goddess new. And pay her homage due. First let the gong's reverberating clang With clash of shivering metal Inaugurate the reign of Sturm und Drang. Let drums (bass, side, and kettle) Add to the general welter, and conspire To set our senses furiously on fire. 66 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Noise, yet more noise, I say. Ye trumpets, blare In unrelated keys and rend the affrighted air. Nor let the shrieking piccolo refrain To pierce the midmost marrow of the brain. Bleat, cornets, bleat, and let the loud bassoon Bay like a bloodhound at the full-orbed moon. Last, with stentorian roar. To consummate our musical Majuba, Let the profound bass tuba Emit one long and Brobdingnagian snore. Ye demons of unrest, your efforts spare. The ancient fane that stood four-square For thrice an hundred years Crashes about our ears. No more shall Music's votaries endure The stream of sound that flows Monotonously pure From a crystalline source to an insipid close. Beethoven is sped. His works are dead. Or merely minister to our postprandial slumbers. Wagner has reached the limbo of back numbers. ODE TO DISCORD 67 But we, blithe anarchs of a hustling era, With rapture unalloyed. Pursue amain the strenuous Chimaera That boometh in the void. We, scorning beauty as a snare insidious, Salute the abnormal and acclaim the hideous, With pious ululations ushering in The unassailed dominion of unbridled din. F 2 68 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY STANZAS SUGGESTED BY A NEW SYMPHONIC POEM. In the orient air of autumn, fanned by Mareotic fires, Where the stately salamanders curtsey to their sacred sires, I beheld a wondrous vision, mirrored in the holophote. Of nostalgic Rosicrucians entering the asymptote. Plants of hypodermic basil on the margin stood arrayed ; Elfin hordes in anticlimax bathed in seas of marmalade ; And the obstinate allurement of the arrogant bassoon Lent a silken iridescence to the mediaeval moon. Leaders of these lurid revels. Garibaldi I espied With a shoal of pterodactyls prancing gaily by his side ; Phuphluns, the Etruscan Bacchus, Gorboduc and Skanderbeg Romping in divine confusion with the late Miss Kilmansegg. SUGGESTED BY A SYMPHONIC POEM 69 GoHardic cachinnations soon athwart the welkin rang, Parasang in diapason booming unto parasang, Till the saturnine Colossus, joining grimly in the fray. Passed in oval ululation far beyond the Milky Way. Then the myrmidons of Argos, mounted on their hippogrifFs, Swooped in semilunar squadrons from the Dalecarlian cliffs ; Plunging their empurpled poniards in the bosom of the brine, Till the minarets of Moscow sank into the Serpentine. Oh, the rapture of the conflict, when the corybantic crew Clashed in fulsome adulation on the shores of Gillaroo ! Paladins of saintly presence, poets of seraphic quill- Hannibal and Barbarossa, Caliban and Bobadil. Suddenly the mist grew denser and the peacocks hove in sight. Peacocks of peculiar flavour, kidnapped from the Isle of Wight, Waving with impassioned gusto tails of elephantine girth. While they sang, in plaintive accents, songs of agonising mirth. 70 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY But the oriflamme of Elba could no longer be defied, And the satrap of Sahara claimed his long-forgotten bride, Merging with supreme expansion, in the crucible of Hell, Holocausts of hara-kiri^ hecatombs of asphodel. So the vision waned and vanished, and I found myself alone On the crest of Cotopaxi, in the Hanseatic zone, Cantillating with an unction never paralleled by man. Since the Balearic buglers scaled the heights of Matapan. 71 JUMBOMANIA By a Musical Reactionary. Once, of sheer sonority enamoured, Steeped in sumptuosity of sound, Chiefly for immensity I clamoured, Only in excess enjoyment found. Music of Gargantuan dimensions. Music full of diabolic din, Music of exorbitant pretensions Could alone my approbation win. With unceasing ecstasy I revelled In the blare of trumpets and trombones. Grieving if the score vv^as not bedevilled By a group of sixteen saxophones. On the shrieking piccolo I doated. Hailed the cornet bleating loud and long. O'er the cymbals' brassy clangour gloated. Welcomed every entry of the gong. 72 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Bands below a hundred in their muster, Bands that were not doubled in the brass, I condemned as lacking life and lustre. Relegated to the lowest class. Once, in short, with size infatuated, I believed the biggest was the best ; Now, with elephantine uproar sated. Jumbo-worship wholly I detest. If you ask what, after long immersion In the joys I've striven to unfold. Has precipitated my conversion To the paths and principles of old — 'Twas a new concerto for the tuba (Written by an enterprising Dane) Proved, if I may say so, the Majuba In my megalolatrous campaign. I declared, in my triumphant folly, That without injurious results I could stand the most terrific volley Slung by instrumental catapults. It was very rash of me to crow so, As I found when things began to hum, And the awful Scherzo strepitoso Caused a puncture in my tympanum. JUMBOMANIA 73 Now, though many reckon me a loony, For rejecting the stentorian style, I no longer crab Mozart as ' tuny,' Or pronounce Beethoven infantile. Finding in a single Chopin study More of pure essential delight Than can be distilled from all the muddy Sea of transcendental blatherskite. Musing therefore on my former blindness In the light and freedom of to-day, I declare I almost have a kindness For the guides who tempted me astray. For the more they drive us to distraction, Boycotting all beauty as inane, All the more they foster the reaction Tow'rds the pure, the lovely, and the sane. 74 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY THE CRY OF THE BRITISH COMPOSER. I AM a British composer, priding myself on my nous^ Trained in the methods of Wagner, steeped in tlie science of Strauss. Ev'ry device of the moderns I have at perfect command, I can be strenuous, subtle, vicious, volcanic and bland, Bold as a portrait by Sargent, weird as a novel by James — Mine is the finest equipment linked to the highest of aims. Physics, psychology, Tolstoi, Nietzsche, Lombroso, Verlaine, All have gone into my music, all are stored up in my brain. Ev'rything have I digested — ev'rything under the sun, Till I am blest in possessing ev'ry advantage — save one. I am a British composer, elbow^ed aside in the race — Even a hearing denied me, doomed to enduring disgrace. THE CRY OF THE BRITISH COMPOSER 75 Would it, I frequently wonder, give me the ghost of a chance If I renounced my relations, borrowed a surname from France ? Shall I become a Bohemian, shall I inscribe on my score, ' This is no English production, this is the work of a Boer ' ? Or is a Muscovite suffix, imsky^ or offlky^ or v'ltch^ Solely and wholly essential Englishmen's ears to bewitch ? Must I insure my left elbow, must I develop a look Less like a thoroughbred Briton than a diseased pastry- cook ? Tell me, O Concert Directors, tell me that I may begin Changing my name and my nation, sloughing my insular skin. We are no megalomaniacs, planners of boycotting schemes, Bent upon turning the tables, flying to hostile extremes. Gladly we bow to the masters, yield to their conquering sway. Only, as moderns with moderns, claim for the native fair play ; — 76 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Claim for his highest endeavour, claim for his work at its best Just an occasional hearing — surely a modest request : Welcoming foreigners freely, yet, when their ' place in the sun ' Comes to be reckoned in England, grudging them thirty to one ! 77 THE CARUSO CAROLS After a well-known model. Why does the great Lord Burton brew so ? To quench the thirst of his friend Caruso. Why does the pit peruse ' Who's Who ' so ? For further details of Sig. Caruso. Why do the 'buses leave Waterloo so ? They're bringing the suburbs to hear Caruso. Why does my Alderney heifer ' moo ' so ? Because she fancies herself Caruso. Why do the cats on the housetop mew so ? They also confuse themselves with Caruso. Why does the bride forgo her trousseau ? To purchase a gallery seat for Caruso. 78 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY What made Miss BilHngton hullabaloo so ? She mistook Mr. Asquith for Signor Caruso. Why did the public lengthen the queue so ? To see how the earthquake affected Caruso. What put Poseidon in a stew so ? His utter failure to shake Caruso. What saddened the end of Brian Boru so ? The thought that he never would hear Caruso. Why do the duchesses rifle Kew so ? For floral tributes to hurl at Caruso. Why do the third-rate tenors boo so ? It's their only chance to extinguish Caruso. Why do the worshippers crowd the pew so ? They hope that the hymn will be led by Caruso. Why does Lloyd-George detest Lord Hugh so ? This has nothing whatever to do with Caruso. July, 1906. FAIR GAME 8i A MODERN NABOB. Though five-and-twenty seasons, spent Where man is either brown or yellow, Have to our friend's complexion lent A warmth emphatically mellow. His accents are so full and clear, His curls so generously cluster, You'd never suess that his career Had nearly closed its thirteenth lustre. Rotund in form, yet not obese ; Square built, or more correctly cubic. He scarcely ever shows a crease Upon his countenance cherubic. He wears an everlasting smile Of such impeccable sincerity. None but a cynic, steeped in guile, Could venture to impugn its verity. 82 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY A bachelor of ample means, He stays in Yorkshire for the shooting ; Then flits awhile to Southern scenes Till April's blasts have ceased their hooting. A month or two in town he spends Till Fashion's whirl grows hot and heady, Then starts with some congenial friends To golf until the grouse are ready. Though somewhat shortish off the tee, He seldom foozles his approaches ; And ladies readily agree That he's the very best of coaches. And if in singles he may fail Against the longest drivers pitted, In foursomes, whether mixed or male, His skill is cordially admitted. His taste in raiment quite suggests The sojourner in regions torrid ; And in the pattern of his vests He shows a leaning tow'rds the florid. He runs to highly coloured ties. He lays his colour on in splashes, | And on the tennis-lawn supplies Relief by his flamboyant sashes. A MODERN NABOB 83 His conversation never flags, He never uses slang expressions, He quotes a few Horatian tags. He keeps an album of confessions, He thinks that an excess of brain Impairs the real charm of ladies, He finds the novels of Hall Caine Are quite as noble as Quo Vadis ? Above Parnassus' lower slope He has no notion of ascending. But Lindsay Gordon, Laurence Hope, Fill him with ecstasy unending. He much admires the luscious lays Composed by Mrs. Woodforde-Finden, And I have heard him highly praise The lilt of Campbell's ' Hohenlinden.' Unmoved by dietetic whims. He quaffs whatever tipple's handy, And at the dinner-table brims His glass with port, champagne, and brandy; He sleeps nine solid hours at night Untroubled by digestive worries, And still retains his appetite For chutney and the hottest curries. G 2 84 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Distinguished in the smoking-room For yarns of tropical adventure, Elsewhere he's careful to assume An attitude that baffles censure, Surprising clerics by his flow Of talk on foreign fanes and minsters. And cheerfully prepared to go And dance with uninviting spinsters. How long, you ask, can he maintain This bounding, boyish versatility ? I know not, and it gives me pain To link him with the least senility. But let me, ere this rhyme is o'er, One pious aspiration utter. That I may see him at four-score Still wield his famous wooden putter. 85 JOHN BULL JUNIOR. My subject's a cheerful young party, Whose age is approaching fifteen ; Whose appetite's thoroughly hearty, Whose temper is bland and serene. At pastime he's highly proficient, But inquiries abundantly prove That he's terribly far from omniscient, Except in one limited groove. For instance, his industry's tireless In getting his Wisden by rote ; But of Signor Marconi (the wireless) He takes the most negligent note. He can't tell the whereabouts clearly Of Pau, Paramatta, or Prague, But he'll talk by the hour about Brearley, He'll tell you the birthplace of Haigh. 86 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY He's weak on the Wars of the Roses, But Lilley he hugely admires. If you cite Dr. Johnson, he dozes, But Jackson his ecstasy fires. He can't tell a brig from a schooner, Or a cormorant from a curlew, But he knows all the virtues of Spooner (Who isn't the Warden of New). Why Chamberlain's down on the ' dumper ' He knows not and cares not to learn. But he knows the religion of Trumper, The family tree of Jack Hearne ; He ardently aims at achieving A place in his County's eleven ; And he recently owned to believing That there's to be cricket in Heaven. For the moment this amiable stripling In a (flannelled) Fool's Paradise dwells. Unheeding the strictures of Kipling, Neglecting the warnings of Wells. If he ever emerges or duly Develops, remains to be seen ; Meanwhile he exemplifies truly Our Governing Class at fifteen. 87 THE GOLFER'S WIFE Of perfect stamina possessed, From centenarians descended, Jones spends his lifetime in the quest Of health — although his health is splendid. Last year he throve upon a fare Which now he views with utter loathing, And monthly he elects to wear New hygienic underclothing. His doctors order exercise. Fresh air and healthy recreation ; And Jones assiduously tries To combat physical stagnation. Llandrindod welcomes him to-day, To-morrow Droitwich lures him brinewards Next week 'tis Bath, or Alum Bay, Or Bournemouth, and he hurries pinewards. 88 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY At scholarship inclined to scoft, Yet fond of neither dogs nor horses, Upon his diet and his golf Jones focusses his mental forces ; Unmoved by mountain peaks sublime, Or 'mid the most enchanting greenery. Because he's musing all the time On his inside, and not the scenery. To travel with this fearsome freak. This valetudinarian loafer, I should decline, though for one week He gave me all the gold of Ophir. Yet his self-sacrificing spouse, All normal interests resigning, Beneath her lifelong burden bows Without the semblance of repining. With him she trots from links to links, Wearing a smile of saintly meekness ; With him eternal cocoa drinks Though China tea's her special weakness. Nor is her sympathy profound Relaxed at luncheon or at dinner. When Jones reconstitutes each round. And turns the tables on the winner. THE GOLFER'S WIFE 89 Fine weather keeps him out of doors, But when it rains or even drizzles — The slightest moisture he abhors — Her fate is worse than patient Grizel's. For Jones exacts attentive heed To his malingering recital, And poses as an invalid When Mrs. Jones deserves the title. No chance of respite or reward To her the future seems to offer. Unless some random rubber-cored Despatches this dyspeptic golfer. Already shrunken to a shred By her devotion self-denying. She perseveres, and when she's dead He'll blame her selfishness in dying. Divines are wont to disagree Acutely in regard to Heaven, Some doctors holding it to be A single sphere, and others seven ; But Jones's consort entertains No doubt about one crucial question ; There will, upon the heav'nly plains. Be neither golf nor indigestion. 90 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY THE NEW MOTHER Though our age lacks the beau and the dandy, It fosters, we all must admit. One monstrum compicuum et grande — The Nev/ British Matron to wit. I haven't a Juvenal's passion, I haven't the grace of a Praed, Yet to paint her, in amateur fashion. In the following lines I've essayed. Her eyes are decidedly greenish. Her hair is the colour of bronze. Her fio-ure's inclined to be leanish. Her accents resemble a Don s. At home, when her mood's esoteric, In drapery flowing she's ' gowned ' ; But when she plays golf at North Berwick, Her skirts are a foot from the ground. THE NEW MOTHER 91 Her hobbies are all of the newest, You cannot keep pace with her fads ; Last session of Tories the bluest, To-day she's the reddest of Rads. Last year she was sailing a cutter, And nearly capsized in a squall ; Now her cult's the Schenectady putter, Her idol the rubber-cored ball. In matters of diet decrying Routine as the direst of plagues, One day on the butcher relying. The next she's a pupil of Haig's. One week she teetotalling gaily ; The next, from this heresy free. You'll find she will dose herself daily With Kiimmel at five o'clock tea. Her favourite philosophy's Nietzsche's, Her favourite composer is Strauss ; Mr. Grayson's anarchical speeches Attract her alone to the House. She smokes an imposing narghile, She dotes on the dramas of Shaw ; She thinks William Shakspeare is silly, That Sargent's unable to draw. 92 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY If you mention the novels of Dickens, Or praise the romances of Scott, She'll tell you their sentiment sickens, The character drawing is ' rot.' But in truth from the lash of her censure Few moderns immunity gain. For she scoffs at the tale of adventure, And sneers at the Servants'-Hall Caine. Her role is to shine and be witty, And treat all tradition as fudge ; Her husband's, to slave in the City, A patient and dutiful drudge. His sandy complexion and freckles Excite her undying disdain. But as long as he rakes in the shekels A martyr she means to remain. Her children she loves when they're quiet ; She sends them to bed when they shriek And she changes their dress and their diet And their lessons, at least once a week. Now of early Victorian Vandals Enforcing the rigidest rule. Now ' ethical safeguards,' and sandals, And the gospel of good Mrs. Boole. THE NEW MOTHER Yet alike in her mien and her temper There's nothing that's notably new ; It was written viutabile semper Two thousand years back, and it's true. Nay an earlier classical chiel, you Remember the saying of course, Summed her up in his Sslvov to drjXvy A dictum we still may endorse. But this freak of the feminine gender. Though apt our annoyance to move, Is mostly a youthful offender, And seldom too old to improve. When she's schooled by adversity's training. And grows less ungentle in mind, There's a hope of her possibly gaining Some hold on the hearts of her kind. 93 94 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY THE END OF EVOLUTION. [ ' Mr. T. H. Holding, Editor of the London Tailor, lecturing on Dress at St. James's Hall, observed, "We have reached finality so far as the dress of the English gentleman is concerned. The trousers of to-day will not only be the trousers of the next fifty or sixty years, but of the next one hundred million."' — Daily Mail, October i6, 1902.] Since Heracleltus, long ago His maxim iravra psl propounded, And those who held a status quo To be maintainable, confounded, Prophet and poet, sage and don — Wherever speculation ranges — Unite in ringing changes on The theme that all creation changes. Tout lasse^ tout passe : you have by rote. No doubt, the shining lines of Shelley Or, failing them, can aptly quote Some parallel from Miss Corelli. i THE END OF EVOLUTION 95 And all bewail the lot of man Who by no method of insurance Can foil the universal ban That robs achievement of endurance. ' Where once was Troy stand cornfields now ' ; And Homer from his mute and chill lips Sends forth no word to tell us how He likes the Odyssey of Phillips. Vixere fortes : but they flit ; John Burns succeeds to Caius Gracchus, As Rosebery succeeds to Pitt, And Horace Hutchinson to Flaccus. Yet 'mid this maze of shifting sands. This crude kaleidoscopic welter. One institution rocklike stands. One solid structure gives us shelter. Though asses stamp where Jamshyd reigned. Though needle-guns give place to Mausers, Finality has been attained In one department — that of TROUSERS. 96 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY O triumph of the tailor's goose, Destined to last for endless reons, Though sculptors greet thee with abuse, We hail thee with ecstatic paeans. For man, whom disappointment dogs, Whose other works demand correction, Here sets on his immortal togs The seal of absolute perfection. 97 MILES GLORIOSUS. [Mr. Eustace Miles, the well-known racquet and tennis player, advocates, in the Daily Mail, the reform of cricket by studying the methods of the American base-ball pitcher and by the adoption of a special course of gymnastic training. ' Alert watching, followed by quick starts, full and fast extensions, together with bodily poise kept or else rapidly recovered,' he considers to be physical virtues which ' might have a decided mental effect upon the nation, and especially upon its commerce.'] Not long ago, in virile verse, Our Rudyard, eloquently railing, Marked our decline from bad to worse, And laid his finger on each failing. How could, he asked, the island race Expect to dominate the Channel So long as pride of foremost place Was given to our fools in flannel ? The fires of controversy blazed And Pemberton, renouncing fiction, Against the football-fetish raised His voice in strident malediction. H 98 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Must we then, at our Kipling's call, Discrown the sovereignty of cricket ? Boycott, with Max, the blameless ball. And make it criminal to kick it ? * No, no,' we hear great Miles exclaim, A champion athlete, tough and lusty, ' It's not the game that is to blame ; It is the method that is musty. 'In cricket, just as in combines. Fas est ah host'ibus docer'i^ And played on Transatlantic lines The game no longer need be dreary. ' Only let baseball players be Our guides in catching, throwing, smiting. And very shortly you will see Kipling a palinode inditing. ' I also purpose to impart, Among a host of new inventions. Command of poise, of sudden start, Followed by " full and fast extensions." MILES GLORIOSUS 99 ' Nor will these virtues be confined Merely within the sphere of muscle ; They obviously react on mind, And teach a nation how to " hustle." ' Thus Britain will behold anew Her faded laurels proudly blossom, In cricket floor the Kangaroo, In commerce rout the slim opossum.* H 2 100 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY DREAMS A LA DRUMONT. [' England will take Algeria, and Chamberlain will realise his dream of being Duke of Algeria.' — RI. Edoziai-d Drumont in the ^ Libre Parole J' \ When England takes Algeria, By force of arms or fluke, And makes it a Siberia, With Chamberlain as Duke : No longer melancholic. But full of fire and frolic, The Unionists will rollick Back into power and place : When England takes Algeria, And Joe becomes His Grace. When Greece takes San Marino On reformation bent. And chooses Mr. Eno To be its President ; Then from the heights of Haemus Will Romulus and Remus Descend with Polyphemus DREAMS A LA DRUMONT loi In revelry insane : When Greece takes San Marino And Eno 'gins his reign. When Mona's Isle is captured By battleships from Spain, And when the Dons, enraptured. Proceed to crown Hall Caine : Oh, won't the Pope feel better. And Wilhelm send a letter Conferring on his Fetter An Eagle with three necks ? When Mona's Isle is captured. And Caine becomes her Rex. When Russia captures Delhi, And, lopping Minto's head, Instals Marie Corelli As Begum in his stead : What marvellous romances. Teeming with luscious fancies. What weird macabrous dances Her pen will perpetrate : When Delhi has Corelli As ruler of the State ! 102 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY When China learns from Harris In homespun tweeds to dress, And when Lord Rosebery marries The Dowager Empress : O what felicitations, What sumptuous oblations, What orotund orations From Stirling will flow in ; When Rosebery quits Harris To be a Mandarin ! When Ireland is a nation, And all the joybells ring To hail the importation Of Drumont as her King : Then will the waves of LifFey, No longer swart and sniffy. Yield freely in a jiffy Superlative ozone ; When Ireland is a nation. And Drumont's on the throne. 103 BACK TO THE LAND. [Sir Harry Johnston advocates the prudent revival of the wolf as likely to enhance the amenities of rural England. ] * Revive the wolf,' so runs the rede ; But why this partial resurrection ? Why foster one ferocious breed, When all deserve the same protection ? I'm sure the countryside would wear A charm immeasurably greater If ev'ry copse concealed a bear, And ev'ry stream an alligator. Think of the added zest of life If dwellers in suburban villas Were constantly engaged in strife With stout and strenuous gorillas ? If on the verdant village green Where in the summer Dick and Tom bat. The wallaby were always seen, Attended by the wily wombat. 104 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY If on the margin of the mere The peccary serenely grunted ; If giant sloths in mid career The automobilist confronted. If in the gardens that we love Great bustards roosted in the willows, The chimpanzee dislodged the dove, And ants gave place to armadillos. This were a piquant change indeed, Transforming tedium to riot ; No longer tonics should we need, Nor fancy stimulating diet. The highly seasoned tale would flag That gives us now such stimulation ; The spicy play would droop and lag Beside this rural innovation. How does the new prescription run ? We ask the medical profession — * A country walk without a gun Will dissipate all nerve depression.' 105 DE SENECTUTE [A ladies' paper in a recent issue condemns that ' quaint middle-class idea that one should "sober down" after marriage. . . . Never — never ought any human being to sober down and lose the zest and pleasure and fun that might be theirs in life. '] Too long have we beheld endure The vicious, obsolete tradition Which banned in folk of age mature The slightest mental ebullition ; But now at last we joy to see — Thanks to the preaching of the papers — Octogenarian elders free To cut the most audacious capers. 'Tis well to lead a strenuous life Up to the tenth or dozenth lustre, But then, for man and maid and wife, Arrives the time to go a ' buster ' ; Then should we fling aside restraint. Then plunge into the gay cotillion, And strive unflinchingly to paint The town and suburbs bright vermilion. io6 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY However pedagogues may frown And view such dicta with disfavour, The folk who never sober down Confer on life its saltest savour. The grandmother who wears a cap Incurs her family's displeasure ; But if she sets a booby-trap And wears a fringe, she is a treasure. Shakspeare pronounced, one must admit, Grey hairs in jesters unbecoming ; But such a creed is all unfit To keep the universe a-humming. The onset of old age affrights Only the dolt who scorns to frivol. Not him who dares to scale the heights Of unadulterated drivel. 107 THE GOLFER'S PROTEST [' Many worthy golfers, who do not know that they are speaking insincerely, attribute, in conversation, the pleasure they feel in pur- suing their game to the agreeable surroundings in which it is pursued ; but my secret belief is that they pay more attention to the lie of the little white ball, and the character of the bunkers, than to the pageantry of sea and sky.' — From a College Window, in the Cornhill, October, 1905.] A NAMELESS writer in the Cornhill thinks That modern golfers, when they're on the Hnks, Are so besotted by the Httle ball As to be deaf and blind to Nature's call. This proposition, in my humble view, Is utterly malicious and untrue, As any honest reader will admit If he will listen to me for a bit. Thus, never seems the skylark's note to me So shrill as when I foozle off the tee ; Never the duckling tunes a livelier lay Than when I throw an easy putt away. io8 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY Nor do the feathered tribe alone arouse Emotion in the golfer ; sometimes cows Will stir him strangely, and a casual goat Has led to language that I dare not quote. To heedless minds, as Wordsworth sang of yore, A primrose is a primrose, nothing more. To me a blade of grass, however small. Becomes a portent if it touch my ball. Non-golfing persons, when they see a sloe, Nor even several, do not care a blow. I never see a sloe but I am thrilled With memories of the gin therefrom distilled. I love the golden glory of the gorse — When I am in the middle of the course, And my opponent drives into the whins. Loses his ball, and scarifies his shins. Golf, too, has taught me clearly to disting- uish heath (with bells) from heather, alias ling ; The latter, past all question, of the two Needing more beef to whack the globule through. THE GOLFER'S PROTEST 109 Golf also teaches me to note the habits Of various rodents, notably of rabbits, Whose burrows oftentimes I have explored Searching in vain for my Lost (rubber)-Cored. Again, I take an interest deep and keen In earthworms, when I'm playing through the green ; Likewise the operations of the mole Electrify at times my pensive soul. Need more be said ? The case is crystal clear ; The golfer's love of Nature is sincere ; The eye that ' from a college window ' blinks Had not the penetration of the lynx. no HUMOURS OF THE FRAY THE BRIGHT ROSALEEN A Study in Manganese Metre. [' Ireland grows less fearful with every season. . . . The Tourist Association is working hard to take the terror out of Irish hotels. You can now live decently in almost every quarter of Ireland. , . . The smallest jest makes one cheerful in this happy kingdom. . . . It will be in time, I believe, as popular with the tourists of all nations as Switzerland, and that is the brightest destiny to which it can look, and for which it should work.' — Mr. Harold Begbie in the Daily Mail.~\ O MY rare Rosaleen, Do not wail, do not weep ! The pressmen are on the swift turbine, They fly across the deep. Bart Kennedy's on the tramp, He is painting all London green, And the Daily Mail on your shores shall camp. My rich Rosaleen ! My own Rosaleen ! Shall cure your ills, shall dry your damp. Shall make you expand like a verdant gamp. My bright Rosaleen ! THE BRIGHT ROSALEEN iii All day long in unrest Up and down do I rove, I've vi^ept upon Carn Tual's crest, I've smiled in Blarney's Grove. But yet w^ill I relume Your fame with my stylo's sheen : 'Tis you shall blossom and bound and boom, My bright Rosaleen ! My own Rosaleen ! 'Tis you for all tripperdom shall find room From now unto the ding of doom, My bright Rosaleen ! Over dikes, over dells Will I fly for your weal ; I'll brave your terrible hotels, Your meagre mid-day meal, Until on your lawns and links From the screech of dawn till e'en You join in all my high old jinks My gay Rosaleen ! My own Rosaleen ! You pledge me in the longest drinks. My amiable, my Emerald Sphinx, My bright Rosaleen ! 112 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY I could scale the North Pole, I could drink up the Clyde, Oh, I could eat sea-serpents whole To make you the Tripper's Bride ! For, however poor and slim. One joke from your lips, I ween, Can thrill the pulses in ev'ry limb. My arch Rosaleen ! My quaint Rosaleen ! Can lend my copy a juicy vim. Can give it the lilt of the Cherubim, My bright Rosaleen ! O the LifFey shall turn To a crystalline stream, And Mr. Walter Long discern Good in Dunraven's scheme. And the Gaels shall take to tea, And boycott the best potheen. Ere you forget the Mall and Me, My rare Rosaleen ! My own Rosaleen ! O Ireland's Eye shall be sunk in the sea, Ere you recover from Harold B., My bright Rosaleen ! "3 ETHICAL CLOTHING By a Libei-al M.P. [' Can there not be found men and women possessing the requisite gifts who will gladly devote to the promo- tion of ethical clothing something of the time the energy, and the thoughtful deliberation so freely lavished upon other national objects ? ' — Lady Portsmouth in. ' The Tribune,^ Jan. 27, 1906.] When in my salad days I ran To pay a visit to my tailor, I thought no more of ethics than The bosun of a North Sea whaler. By birth and breeding disinclined To emulate the ways of slatterns, I used my taste but not my mind In choosing fashionable patterns. Unto the ordeal of the tape I unconcernedly submitted. Content if my corporeal shape Alone was adequately fitted. 114 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY I took, of course, some interest In colours, textures, and in tissues. But never in my folly guessed That dress was touched to nobler issues. But now I see that, on the whole, The path of life becomes less festive, I tune my clothing to my soul, And make my very spats suggestive. Thus, when I don my Harris tweeds It is because my heart is softer, And metaphorically bleeds With fellow feeling for the crofter. Or if I muse on Ireland's wrongs And on the feuds that have convulsed her. My grief is not expressed in songs But in my heaviest frieze ulster. No longer lavishly attired I lend a lustre to the Lobby ; My raiment now is all inspired By Herbert Spencer — not by ' Bobby.' ETHICAL CLOTHING 115 There's toleration in my ties, My waistcoats all are altruistic, My aquascutum signifies An inclination to the mystic. Self-help's the keynote of my hose. Humility my shirt-front teaches. Content my dressing-gowns disclose. And piety my collar preaches. And O my sisters, unto you Let me address one word of warning : Bid fashion's giddy modes adieu, Let ethics govern your adorning. Take, in regard to hats and shoes, Marcella as your guide, not Becky ; And study, ere your frocks you choose. The works of Bentham, Mill, and Lecky. I 2 ii6 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY THE TWO DESPERADOES. [' Mr. William Le Queux and Harry de Windt left London yesterday for Arctic Lapland.'— Z'azT)' Mail, August 13, 1907.] The two boldest heroes that ever I kneux Were William de Windt and Harry Le Oueux. They were harder than nails, they were harder than flindt, Were Harry Le Queux and William de Windt. Savage Landor turned pink and De Rougemont turned bleux At William de Windt and Harry Le Oueux. Each had in his eye an adventurous glindt, Had Harry Le Oueux and William de Windt. THE TWO DESPERADOES 117 They touched with romance the drab page of Who's Wheux^ Did William de Windt and Harry Le Queux. The language was often too luscious to prindt, Of Harry Le Queux and William de Windt. No man was so brave as to dare to say Beux ! To William de Windt and Harry Le Queux. They obeyed no command and they took not a hindt, Did Harry Le Queux and William de Windt. They were always received with applause at the Zeux, Were William de Windt and Harry Le Oueux. The earnings could hardly be stored at the Mindt, Of Harry Le Queux and William de Windt. They chartered a yacht with a cannibal creux, Did William de Windt and Harry Le Queux. They dyed their moustaches a terrible tindt, Did Harry Le Oueux and William de Windt. ii8 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY They purchased fur coats from the Wandering Jeux, Did William de Windt and Harry Le Oueux. And they padded their waistcoats with bullet-proof lindt, Did Harry Le Queux and William de Windt. Now they're gone to the Arctic together — Hurreux For William de Windt and Harry Le Oueux ! 119 DANGEROUS DECLARATIONS. [' Mr. Max Pemberton added that he showed the policeman the speedometer, and the constable appeared to be quite agitated. "Was the constable agitated before or after hearing your name ? " asked the prose- cuting solicitor. Mr. Pemberton, after a moment's hesitation, replied: "Probably after.". . . The magi- strate dismissed the case.' — Wcsl minster Gazette, April 26, 1907. J When Hall is hurrying to the train And tells the porter ' I am Caine ! ' Tears from the porter flow like rain. When William, entering a pew, Unconsciously remarks * Le Queux,' Vicars turn pink and vergers blue. When Newnes is dining at the Ritz, And murmurs to himself ' Tit-Bits,' The waiters and the chef have fits. 120 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY When Lee declines his dexter lid, And says ' Conductor, I am Sid,' The bus at once begins to skid. When Henry Arthur whispers 'Jones' To cheer a pauper breaking stones. The pauper usually groans. When George, inside a tram close packed, Cries * Alexander ! ' it's a fact They have to read the Riot Act. When Bernard, ordering sea-kale, Says * G. B. S.,' greengrocers quail And grow unnaturally pale. When Henry at Olympic games Says to the heralds, ' Way for James ! ' * Oi/iot' the King of Greece exclaims. When Parker haunts the Zoo, and when He tells the keepers ' Louis N.,' They shelter in the lions' den. When Rudyard buys a mutton chop. And adds, ' I'm Kipling,' butchers flop, And panic decimates the shop. DANGEROUS DECLARATIONS 121 When Anthony salutes the Pope With the announcement ' I am Hope,' The staidest Cardinals elope. When Beerbohm, crossing o'er the sea, Informs a simple tar ' I'm Tree,' It gives the simple tar D.T. When Sandgate's prophet, gathering shells. Informs the sea, ' I'm H. G. Wells,' The sea uproariously swells. When Chesterton at Court appears, Lord Althorp, as the name he hears. Dissolves into a flood of tears. When Silas to the King says ' Hocking,' The consequences are so shocking Four continents are set a-rocking. RENDERINGS FROM THE ROMAIC 125 THE FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. [The original of these lines was written more than seventy years ago by the Greek poet Alexander Soutsos, as a satiric protest against a decree, passed under the Presidency of Capodistrias, which gagged the Press while professing to secure its freedom.] 'TwAs a Minister addressed me, with a radiant face of joy, ' Soutsos,' cried he, ' friend of freedom, glorious news I bring, old boy. I have framed a law, a Press law, fifteen Articles com- prising. And by dint of my devising. Freedom's granted to the Press ! — proiiided that you use no s lighting Language of a State official^ Or of any functionary^ Ministerial or "Judicial^ Freedom! s granted to the PresSy — provided you refrain from writing. 126 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY I've a brother who's a Prefect, quite a prodigy of zeal ; And my cousin, worthy fellow, holds a Judgeship of Appeal. I, too, have some tidy pickings in my own snug sinecure, Still, I dote on free discussion, gagging I can not endure. Freedom's granted to the Press ! &c. There's a friend of mine, a colleague, who is always in a fright Lest his shady antecedents should be dragged into the light. Well, the other day I heard him loudly 'gainst the Papers bellow. Sir, I did my very utmost to suppress the silly fellow. Freedom's granted to the Press ! &c. Henceforth at your writing-table you can sit and freely bait us. In your choicest doggerel slate us, Anything that doesn't please you, any aggravated person, You may write satiric verse on. Freedom's granted to the Press ! 5cc. THE FREEDOM OF THE PRESS 127 What on earth delays you, Soutsos ? Speedily your penknife seize, Point your quill, and place your notebook comfortably on your knees. There's red ink, if you prefer it ; yes, red makes the best beginning ; Sift us all, and show no quarter or compassion on the sinning;. Freedom's granted to the Press ! — provided that you use no slighting Language of a State official^ Or of any functionary^ Ministerial or Judicial, Freedom'' s granted to the Press, — provided you refrain from zvriting. 128 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY THE BRAGGART From the Romaic of Alexander Soutsoi. SouTsos, if there is a creature whom I heartily abhor, 'Tis the knave who blows his trumpet noisily from door to door. T'other day a blatant braggart — always at it, day and night — Sought to deafen me outright. Bygone grandeur, stale achievements, formed the staple of his story, Just as if I were a dunce And a baby, all at once, And had never heard of greatness, or of riches, or of glory ! THE BRAGGART 129 He began to prate and prattle of the number of his cattle, Sheep and billygoats he counted, too, In an endless tittle-tattle ; Then he told me what the acres of his property amounted to. * Will you sell it ? Name your figure ! ' to the fool I nearly cried ; ' I'm the greatest squire, d'ye know, Thebes or Negropont can show ; ' But I swallowed down my anger — bragging I can not abide. Everyone admits of me, without a point unduly stretching, That I'm handsome, young, and fetching ; That my lips are coral red, my teeth like pearls whene'er I show 'em — Every attitude a poem ; And that in the gay mazurka with angelic grace I glide. Ten fine girls for love of me have fall'n into a sad decline ! But I don't proclaim it on the housetops, like some friends of mine ; — Boasting is my pet aversion, boasting I can not abide. K 130 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY You've no notion of the numbers — Greeks and foreigners renowned — Who frequent my house on business, morn and evening, to and fro, Till my head spins round and round. As I watch them doff before me hats and turbans, louting low. Do you know that correspondence of a nature manifold With ten Cabinets I hold ? That I am the confidant of every creature that I know — Btit I'd sooner bite my tongue off than tell anybody so. It's a most ill-starred anomaly by politics afforded. Genius never is rewarded. Men of most inferior metal in the Cabinet hold places ; While, in spite of all my talent, all my intellectual graces, I've not yet become the Premier — as I must one day, of course — But amid the Opposition benches bawl until I'm hoarse. Still, I'd sooner cut my hand off than attempt to calculate The incalculable services I've rendered to the State. THE BRAGGART 131 I should be a noted person, and in human estimation Hold a most exalted station, Were I not so mighty modest, — loth my deeds abroad to blazon ; But I can not blow my trumpet, — I could never be so brazen ! Praise me, then, dear Soutsos, do ! And I'll lay it thick on you, That the world may learn at last our real merits to appraise. And allow no shamefaced braggart to deprive us of our bays. K 2 132 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY A VISION OF DRAGATZAN An episode in the Greek War of Independence. From the Romaic of Alexander Soutsos. Cradled in the arms of slumber Athens lay at dead of night ; I alone my vigils keeping watched the lamp's unsteady light Burning in my silent chamber with a dim and fitful flame, Till my senses slowly left me, and at last oblivion came. But in dreams the Sacred Legion I beheld before me stand ; Saw my brother, my Demetrius, chief of that heroic band. Pale as death he seemed, my brother, while in stern unfaltering mood Round him his undaunted Legion, closely gathered round him, stood, A VISION OF DRAGATZAN 133 Chosen youths of Greece, in beauty as in bravery the first, Worthy sons of those who erst At Thermopylae contended 'neath Leonidas' command. Thus I saw him, my Demetrius, chief of that heroic band. As I gazed, methought upon me he upturned his dimming eye. Recognised me and embraced me, saying, ' Brother, I must die ! ' Then he bared his gleaming falchion and alone, but un- dismayed, Flew to charge the mounted myriads, trusting to his single blade. And the Legion charged behind him, by avenging fury fanned. Thus I saw him, my Demetrius, chief of that heroic band. All the ridges of the hills were swarming with the Othman hordes, All the valley swayed and quivered, bristling with un- numbered swords ; 134 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY I could see them, see their myriads, filling every copse and hollow. And I heard a clarion voice that shouted, ' Gallant com- rades, folio vi^. Follow me, and charge the foemen ; fear not steel nor blazing brand ! ' 'Twas my brother, my Demetrius, chief of that heroic band. And I saw him rush upon them, dealing death at every blow ; Saw him smite and saw him smitten, falling, rising, falling low. Then methought I ran to aid him, heard him say with faltering voice, ' I am dying, dying early, yet I grieve not, nay, rejoice ; In the glorious cause of Freedom I at least have raised my hand.' Weltering in thy blood, Demetrius, thy familiar form I scanned. Dragatzdn ! in ancient ages scant renown was on thee shed, Now about thy meadows hover shadows ot the mighty dead ; A VISION OF DRAGATZAN 135 Boast henceforth : ' 1 was a witness of the thrice-illus- trious fray ; In my vales the new Three Hundred, Spartans of a later day, Shed the last drop of their life-blood to redeem the father- land, And I saw the young Demetrius, chief of that heroic band ! ' 136 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY ON A BLIND AND CAPTIVE NIGHTINGALE From the Romaic of Alexander Soutsos. * Caged within a dreary prison, with thy sad unceasing wail Half the magic of thy singing thou forgettest, night- ingale.' — *Once, unfettered in the forest, in my lay I took delight, Gladd'ning all the world around me, till men robbed my wings of flight. Now that flight and freedom fail, Hapless I lament and wail. ' I beheld, ere I was blinded, pleasant meadows drest in green, Hill and vale, and arching o'er me saw the summer skies serene ; A BLIND AND CAPTIVE NIGHTINGALE 137 Near a bow'r of fragrant roses, near a streamlet was my nest, Fanned by cool refreshing breezes, blowing from the balmy West. Now within my darksome gaol Hapless I lament and wail. ' When my savage captors doomed me in captivity to dwell, I foresaw that loss of freedom brought me loss of sight as well.' — ' Thou wast right, for black and bitter is the fortune of the thrall, And o'er slavery's dominion darkness casts a gloomy pall. Weep then, hapless nightingale. In thy dark and dreary gaol.' — 'If I cease awhile from singing, and in mournful silence brood. Then my master, like a tyrant, wrathfully denies me food. Thus — what other way is open ? — am I driven to begin Songs of bitterness and sorrow, daily nourishment to win, And within my gloomy gaol Hapless I lament and wail.' 138 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY — '■ There was once a singer like thee, famous in the ancient time, Helicon's unequalled song-bird, godlike father of all rhyme ; Yet 'mid poverty and blindness, till his race was fully run By his minstrelsy melodious food and sustenance he won, And though beggared, blind, and frail. Sang as sings the nightingale.' 139 THE EXILE From the Greek of Alexander Hypsilantl, * Say, foreign bird of mournful mien, with sadness in thy singing, Where is the nest thou lovest best, say, whither art thou winging ? ' — ' I have no nest, in sad unrest unceasingly I roam. Yet ease of mind may never find nor gain a happy home. Of old I had a fatherland, in youth's delightful days. And led a life of golden hope amid the myrtle sprays ; My roundelay the livelong day I chanted to my mate. And deemed a love so strong as ours might well o'ermaster fate. When suddenly down swooped a hawk, and dead before my eyes, The light of all my life, struck dead by those fell talons, lies. 140 HUMOURS OF THE FRAY ' Since then, bereft of hope and home, sad, partnerless, undone, A lonely exile have I strayed beneath an alien sun ; With drooping wings and weary frame, hither and thither cast From shore to shore, by random chance or by the driv- ing blast. Until, my toilsome wand'rings o'er, I reach the silent gate, Whereunto all created things must come, or soon or late — The cruel hawk, the little bird, his unoffending prey ; For ev'n this wondrous universe must thither pass away.' PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. LTD., NEW-STREET SQUARE LONDON DATE DUE 1 CAYUORO rniNTCO IN U.S. A.