PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Vol. 152.

February 21st, 1917.

CHARIVARIA.

Count BERNSTORFF, it appears, was very much annoyed with the way in which certain Americans are supporting President WILSON, and he decided to read them a lesson they would not soon forget. So he left America.

Things are certainly settling down a little in Hungary. Only two shots were fired at Count TISZA in the Hungarian Diet last week.

The famous Liquorice Factory which has figured so often in the despatches from Kut is again in the hands of our troops. Bronchial subjects who have been confining themselves to black currant lozenges on patriotic grounds will welcome the news.

The German Imperial Clothing Department has decreed that owners of garments "bearing the marks of prodigal eating" will not be permitted to replace them, and the demand among the elderly dandies of Berlin for soup-coloured waistcoats is said to have already reached unprecedented figures.

"On the Western front," says The Cologne Gazette, "the British are defeated." Some complaints are being made by the Germans on the spot because they have not yet been officially notified of the fact.

A neutral diplomat in Vienna has written for a sack of rice to a colleague in Rome, who, feeling that the Austrians may be on the look-out for the rice, intends to defeat their hopes by substituting confetti.

By the way the FOOD CONTROLLER may shortly forbid the use of rice at weddings. We have long held the opinion that as a deterrent the stuff is useless.

"The British," says the Berliner Tageblatt, "what are they? They are snufflers, snivelling, snorting, shirking, snuffling, vain-glorious wallowers in misery...." It is thought likely that the Berliner Tageblatt is vexed with us.

Count PLUNKETT, although elected to the House of Commons, will not attend. It is cruel, but the COUNT is convinced that the punishment is no more severe than the House deserves.

A North of England Tribunal has just given a plumber sufficient extension to carry out a large repair job he had in hand. This has caused some consternation among those who imagined that the War would end this year.

Lord DEVONPORT'S weekly bread allowance is regarded as extravagant by a lady correspondent, who writes, "In my own household we hardly eat any bread at all. We practically live on toast."

An informative contemporary explains that the Chinese eggs now arriving are nearly all brown and resemble those laid in this country by the Cochin China fowl. This, however, is not the only graceful concession to British prejudice, for the eggs, we notice, are of that oval design which is so popular in these islands.

PRO PATRIA.

An Evening News correspondent states that at one restaurant last week a man consumed "a large portion of beef, baked potatoes, brussels-sprouts, two big platefuls of bread, apple tart, a portion of cheese, a couple of pats of butter and a bottle of wine." We understand that he would also have ordered the last item on the menu but for the fact that the band was playing it.

A Carmelite sleuth at a City restaurant reports that one "Food Hog" had for luncheon "half-a-dozen oysters, three slices of roast beef with Yorkshire pudding, two vegetables and a roll." The after-luncheon roll is of course the busy City man's substitute for the leisured club-man's after-luncheon nap.

There is plenty of coal in London, the dealers announce, for those who are willing to fetch it themselves. Purchasers of quantities of one ton or over should also bring their own paper and string.

One of the rarest of British birds, the great bittern, is reported to have been seen in the Eastern counties during the recent cold spell. In answer to a telephonic inquiry on the matter Mr. POCOCK, of the Zoological Gardens, was heard to murmur, "Once bittern, twice shy."

A stoker, prosecuted at a London Police Court for carrying smoking materials into a munitions factory, explained in defence that no locker had been assigned to him. The Bench thereupon placed one at his disposal for a period of one month.

On the Somme, says The Times, the New Zealand Pioneers, consisting of Maoris, Pakehas and Raratongans, dug 13,163 yards of trenches, mostly under German fire. The really thrilling fact about this is that we have enlisted the sympathy of the Pakehas (or "white men"), who, with the single exception of the Sahibs of India, are probably the fiercest tribe in our vast Imperial possessions.

The announcement that the Scotland Yard examination will not be lowered for women taxicab drivers has elicited a number of inquiries as to whether "language" is a compulsory or an alternative subject.

"The feathers are most quickly got rid of by removing them with the skin," says the writer of a recently published letter on "Sparrows as Food." He forgets the very considerable economy which can be achieved by having them baked in their jackets.

We are glad to note an agitation for a bath-room in every artisan dwelling. Only last week we were pained by a photograph in a weekly paper showing somebody reduced to taking his tub in the icy Serpentine.

Motto for Housekeepers:—

"WEIGH IT AND SEE."

National Service.

WILLIAM v. THE WORLD.

O. S.

A Lost Leader.

"Mr. Law began his speech with intermittent cries for Mr. Lloyd George."—The