Imperial Rugby: A line-out in the football match between the invincible South Africans and England, which drew a crowd of 30. 000 enthusiasts to Twickenham.
While politicians and other serious
persons have been discussing whether we can cement the bonds of Empire by giving a preference to South African wine and tobacco, the man in the street, and others to whom that wellworn cliche does not apply, have been cementing it by a keen interest in the
Springboks. So the great match at Twickenham on Saturday drew 30, 000
people to Twickenham—a far bigger crowd than any of the politicians can usually hope to attract.
This may be sad to serious people;
but another estimate of the tendencies of the day might deplore the small appreciation of humour among modern young men. A common experi
ence of middle-aged men is that they are younger in spirit than their own sons; few of them, at any rate, wish, as their sons do (especially on newspapers),
to run all Governments. The dispute about food taxes has revealed this lack of humour more than anything we have had for quite a long time.
One wishes especially that the word
“ grave ” would vanish from the newspapers, even although the very precious compilers of the “ King’s English ” did not schedule it. Every
thing is “ grave ” in the political “ situation ” according to some critics.
It would be interesting to know how many times in the course of a year Mr. Garvin, to take one example, uses the words “ crisis, ” “ serious ” and “ grave. ”
What really is grave, however, is the
condition cf St. Paul’s, to which we devote much space in this issue. The gravity is not a matter of opinion, but of ocular demonstration, as our pictures and the striking double-page drawing — produced with infinite pains by that conscientious draughtsman, Mr. G. F. Morrell—amply show.
The political discussion, however,
leaves many gaps in this empty season to fill: s0 the condition of fiction has come in for its annual dissec
tion. The Mail’s, ” Englishman ” has brandished the big club, and Mr. Neil Lyons, a young man who has humour
and to spare, has replied. The yearly average of fiction among us, we are told, is 2136.9 novels. Who reads them? The current issue of that
capital little magazine, the Book Monthly, has been canvassing women on the point:
Mrs. Glyn. —I hardly ever read a novel.
Mrs. W. K. Clifford —I read very few modern novels.
Miss Harr aden. —I read chiefly biography. Miss M. P. Willcocks. —Far above all novels I put mental science in any shape.
Miss Betham-Edwards. — I have ever been a parsimonious novel reader.
One of the most pathetic incidents in
connection with the death of the Duke of Abercorn was the playing of a dirge in front of his house at 11. 15 on the evening of his death by an unknown piper ” who has been thanked by the new Duke. No funeral music can excel that of the pipes, for it seems to express the immemorial pain of mankind.
E4: THE LARGEST SUBMARINE IN I HE WORLD
The first of her class, our new submarine carries four torpedo tubes and two guns, and weighs, when
submerged, 1000 tons. She was built at Barrow-in-Furness, and arrived at Portsmouth last week
THE LIGHT SIDE OF THE TAXI-CAB STRIKE: DRIVERS HOLDING A MOCK FUNERAL at the house of a non-unionist at Brixton. Some 5000 drivers have gone on strike owing to the increase in the
charge for petrol from 8d. to 1s, 1d. a gallon.
A NOVELTY IN THE AUSTRIAN ARMY By order of the Austrian War Minister sentries guarding magazines are to have the assistance of a watch-dog.
AT ST. MORITZ: THE SLEIGH AS PERAMBULATOR
There has been a distinct shortage of snow at St. Moritz this season, and more is badly wanted for bob-sleighing and ski-running, but from the skaters’ point of view the weather has been perfect.
AN UNHAPPY NEW YEAR FOR THE DOG Arresting one of the 3000 dogs abandoned every year by
London dog lovers (! ) at the time when licences fall due,
While politicians and other serious
persons have been discussing whether we can cement the bonds of Empire by giving a preference to South African wine and tobacco, the man in the street, and others to whom that wellworn cliche does not apply, have been cementing it by a keen interest in the
Springboks. So the great match at Twickenham on Saturday drew 30, 000
people to Twickenham—a far bigger crowd than any of the politicians can usually hope to attract.
This may be sad to serious people;
but another estimate of the tendencies of the day might deplore the small appreciation of humour among modern young men. A common experi
ence of middle-aged men is that they are younger in spirit than their own sons; few of them, at any rate, wish, as their sons do (especially on newspapers),
to run all Governments. The dispute about food taxes has revealed this lack of humour more than anything we have had for quite a long time.
One wishes especially that the word
“ grave ” would vanish from the newspapers, even although the very precious compilers of the “ King’s English ” did not schedule it. Every
thing is “ grave ” in the political “ situation ” according to some critics.
It would be interesting to know how many times in the course of a year Mr. Garvin, to take one example, uses the words “ crisis, ” “ serious ” and “ grave. ”
What really is grave, however, is the
condition cf St. Paul’s, to which we devote much space in this issue. The gravity is not a matter of opinion, but of ocular demonstration, as our pictures and the striking double-page drawing — produced with infinite pains by that conscientious draughtsman, Mr. G. F. Morrell—amply show.
The political discussion, however,
leaves many gaps in this empty season to fill: s0 the condition of fiction has come in for its annual dissec
tion. The Mail’s, ” Englishman ” has brandished the big club, and Mr. Neil Lyons, a young man who has humour
and to spare, has replied. The yearly average of fiction among us, we are told, is 2136.9 novels. Who reads them? The current issue of that
capital little magazine, the Book Monthly, has been canvassing women on the point:
Mrs. Glyn. —I hardly ever read a novel.
Mrs. W. K. Clifford —I read very few modern novels.
Miss Harr aden. —I read chiefly biography. Miss M. P. Willcocks. —Far above all novels I put mental science in any shape.
Miss Betham-Edwards. — I have ever been a parsimonious novel reader.
One of the most pathetic incidents in
connection with the death of the Duke of Abercorn was the playing of a dirge in front of his house at 11. 15 on the evening of his death by an unknown piper ” who has been thanked by the new Duke. No funeral music can excel that of the pipes, for it seems to express the immemorial pain of mankind.
E4: THE LARGEST SUBMARINE IN I HE WORLD
The first of her class, our new submarine carries four torpedo tubes and two guns, and weighs, when
submerged, 1000 tons. She was built at Barrow-in-Furness, and arrived at Portsmouth last week
THE LIGHT SIDE OF THE TAXI-CAB STRIKE: DRIVERS HOLDING A MOCK FUNERAL at the house of a non-unionist at Brixton. Some 5000 drivers have gone on strike owing to the increase in the
charge for petrol from 8d. to 1s, 1d. a gallon.
A NOVELTY IN THE AUSTRIAN ARMY By order of the Austrian War Minister sentries guarding magazines are to have the assistance of a watch-dog.
AT ST. MORITZ: THE SLEIGH AS PERAMBULATOR
There has been a distinct shortage of snow at St. Moritz this season, and more is badly wanted for bob-sleighing and ski-running, but from the skaters’ point of view the weather has been perfect.
AN UNHAPPY NEW YEAR FOR THE DOG Arresting one of the 3000 dogs abandoned every year by
London dog lovers (! ) at the time when licences fall due,