LIBER’S NOTE BOOK.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXVII, Issue 17251, 19 August 1916, Page 12

LIBER’S NOTE BOOK.

FAMOUS “ PUNCH ” ARTIST. Amongst other Victorian, celebrities who figure in Sir Henry Lucy s latest volume is Charles Keene, the iamous “Punch” artist, the greatest master of “line” —Phil'May not even excepted—that Mr Punch has ever had on his staff. Keene was a man of very reserved .manners, and 1 can quite understand that Lucy,' who is popularly credited with being impressed with a sense of his own importance, may have found the artist a somewhat unsympathetic person. Lucy relates how Keene would attend the famous “Punch” dinners, and as soon as possible take to his pipe and silence, and was never heard to offer a suggestion for'the creation or tiio improvement of a cartoon. At- one time ho lived in a studio on the attic floor of an old house in the Strand. . “Hero, amid dust and cobwebs, old costumes and properties, hung upon a clothes line drawn across the room, ho worked hard for his living. Ho would have no charwoman about, his premises. Any, dusting and cleaning required ho did himself. Also lie was his own cook. This habit ho kept up to the end. When, in the course of years, ho reached his studio in the King's Road, Chelsea, lie took with him a gas stove, with whoso dubious aid lie prepared his midday meal. Sonic men would have supplied themselves with a betterequipped apparatus. * The expenditure upon gas was quite enough for Carlos without running into extras in the way of plant. A cheap gas light sot. on a stool and connected with a chandelier by flexible tube supplied the heat, whilst for cooking contrivance ho ingeniously adapted the coiled spring taken from an old .Gibus hat.” Keene left £40,000 and undoubtedly wab a man of peculiarly frugal habits. His extraordinary ' homo cookery,” of which a most amusing description is given, by the way, in that most delightful boqk, “ The Life and ‘Letters of Charles -omcno, ‘Punch,’” written by G. &• Lay am, had not a little to do, l fancy, with the painful diseaso which caused ins death. In Mr Laynrd’s pages ono gets the l'eal “Carlo,” as his many triends called Keene, and A very loveable though eccentric character, he was. So far from being tho miserly hermit that Sir Henry Lucy pictures him, lie had a wide circle of friends, not confined to artists, who greatly esteemed him. His two groat hobbies wero the use of curiously shaped clay tobacco pipes, of which he had a large collection, and playing the bagpipes, a pastime somewhat odd in one who had no Caledonian blood m his veins. Ho ■was a member of a once famous glee society, the Moray Minstrels, and a great collector of and authority on old ballads.' It is worth recording that he was a great personal friend of “ Omar ” Fitzgerald, and would often run down to visit the “ Laird of Little Grange ” at his homo in the sleepy old Suffolk town of Woodbridge. In Fitzgerald’s letters, there are quite a number of references to Keene, who Ivas clearly a very sterling fellow, although decidedly eccentric in some of _ his habits. Mr Layard’s book on Keene is not, I think,’so well known as it ought to he. It is full of good stories, of Victorian artists, especially the “Punch” coterie, and Keene’s letters are as almost human and interesting as those of his old friend “Fitz.” himself. Tho book will specially delight those who are interested in pictures, prints, and old china collecting. From Sir Layard’s book I cony out a verso of Mr Punch’s own. tribute to one of the most brilliant’ and loyal of his staff:— Frank, loyal, unobtrusive, simple-hearted. Loving his book, his pipe, his song, his friend; Peaceful he lived and peacefully departed, A gentle life course with a graceful end.

“AN IRISHWOMAN IN CHINA.” Some of the best of the most recently published books on China have been written by women. Mrs Gaunt’s “ An Englishwoman in China ” will doubtless bo remembered by many of my readers Another and more recent book on China is by Mrs Burgh Daly, and 1 is entitled “ An Irishwoman in China.” Mrs ; Daly first went to China in 1888, taking charge of a small hospital for Chinese women, which had been started at Ningpo, in the Chekiang Province, mid-China, by an English lady. Later on she married Dr Daly, medical officer at Ningpo, who, in 1393, was appointed port doctor at the important seaport of Newcliang (now generally called Linkow)., in Manchuria. With intervals of trips to England, the author remained in China until 1912, when, with her husband, she returned to take up her residence in tho Old Country. She had several personal friends on hoard the great Russian battleship Petropavlosk, which struck a mine when returning to Port Arthur after a sortie. . Amongst those who went down in tho ill-fated vessel'was the great Russian war painter, Verestscliagin, whose wonderful pictures of Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow are so well known. After referring to the Battle of Mukden, iu which tho line of battle extended for nearly a hundred miles,,Mrs Daly says: “It is interesting to note what is now a well-estab-lished fact, that had General Kuropatkin possessed competent intelligence officers who would have found out the true state of affairs for him, he could have turned' the tide of events both at Liaoyang and Mukden in favour of the Russians. At Liaoyang, General Kuroki was isolated on the right of Mukden, General Nogi on the left, hut no ono gave Kuropatkin the necessary information, and these great opportunities were tost.” CHINESE SERVANTS. Everyone who has lived in the Far East testifies to tho many virtues of the Chinese servants. I have heard returned Europeans grumblo that their “boye” were wont to make too much out of their private perquisites,

but after nil honesty is largely a matter of point of view. Mrs Daly writes:—

A respootahle (servant never eteala, but they squeeze, that is, erect a certain toll for them-, solves in ell money trannactions, ana tM3 they consider legitimate It iss graduated according to tho inoomo of the employer. Amahs, or nursos as a rule are very faithful fond of their charges, and oxlroinely patient in illness. . . . Where would you find a European nurse who would tako out three different coats of varied weights lost a sudden drop in the temperature cause baby to catch cold? . . . They dislike interference by young parents or doctors. Once mv husband gave Amah some directions about babv’s health. She came to me .in high dudgeon. " Wliaffor master tolloo mo that? she said. “Master aavee doctor pidgin; my mvee baby!”

After long service a “boy” is npfc to develop proprietorial airs which are sometimes very amusing. Thus Mrs Daly tells of a Shanghai resident, who. after ten or twelve years of bachelor life, during which time ho employed tho same “ boy,” took to himself a wife. A few weeks passed, and then the “hoy” inquired: “Master, misseo have come stop?” “Of course, boy.” “Master, imsaco have com© stop—me no can!’’

SOME “PIDGIN” ENGLISH. “ Pidgin English, ns tlio lingua franca of the Far East is called, is an unhol. and often very amusing mixture ot English, Portuguese, Trench and Ghintso. A bishop is called “ No. 1 top sl . n pidgin man,” “ top side stand.ng tor heaven, “joss,” djos (god), ; P^K n f business. A curious stoij two gentlemen who went to ea l upon the King of Siam, when that potentate was visiting; Shanghai. They entered the hotel, and uWHjjF pxietor, s. courteous American, -i j - J W^Boy/’^callcd i( ths proprietor; "one piecce 'k" Hovo^gof, 0 pir,” replied the boy cheerfully ‘His Majesty is at home, translated the proprietor. The author quotes the'by this tune rather well-worn story ot how a Gninaman described the first motor-car ho zl. “ Haiyah! What thing? N° nushee 'no pullee, go like bellee. Iho Ertory used to be told of the , arrived Chinaman who saw the Mel bourne cable cars. A Chinese descry tion of tobogganing, as quoted by the author, is, however, new—to me, a least :—“ Swissh—then walk to back two miles t”

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. In iC Nearing Jordan. 1 tho third ftnd concluding volume of Sir Henry Lucy s generally lively but, in places, rather verbose reminiscences, there is a id rence to a gentleman once well-known in gubernatorial circles in New Zealand. Sir Henry had been visiting Lord Houghton when, the latter was Lo.cJLioutenant of 1 reland, and records thathe took, his office very seriously and stage-managed tlie pomp and on - stance attending tho important pos • with awe-inspiring results: — Throughout tho day, whether at Homo or obioad, ho inflexibly preserved the, ar.d manner imposed by Ilia eativto. ho ono was more impressed by them than his-aide-de-camp. It v.-aa tlie established custom for guests to assemble in the drawing-room punctually at tho hour tor dinner. 1 resen - ly the aide-de-camp disappeared, promptly returned, and, standing at the open doorway, in awed voice, announced His Lxcellency. Whereupon the guests with ono accord rose t their feet. The idea subtly conveyed was that, strolling out by the door, Mr Guise had unexpectedly come upon the Lpr<J Lieutenant advancing towards the drawingroom. Stricken by his nfajcsUc personality, fearful if it blazed unannounced upon the company they would faint, he, with gvont ,presence of mind, pulled himself together, and at hill speed returned just in time to avoid catastrophe. the FRENCH WOMEN AND THE WAR. Some striking war pictures, especially of the nobly patient and patriotic part plavcd by tho women of France in the great struggle in which their country are to be found in Madame Drumont’s work, “ A Trench IMother in War Times.” Madauio is tlio wife of the well-known Parisian journalist, M. Edouard Drumont, editor ot “Libre Parole,” and once famous by his connection-with tbo Dreyfus case. Possessed of great literary ability, Madame Drumont invests hor pictures of France in war time, of the suffering and heroism of tbo people, soldiers and civilians alike, with much graceful eloquence, and the result is a book of exceptional interest. The author rarely even approaches the hysterical, but underlying* her narrative one can detect a deop-seated desire that Heaven may avenge ihe foul wrongs done by Some of the Huns to the French women And at this who can wonder who reads such a’story, as tho following :

A Red Cross nurse who had looked afler a wounded prisoner, an officer, was warmly thanked by him several times. His thanks were charmingly. expressed in excellent French. Ho even went so far as to promise to send her a little soWnir when he went back to his country. Soon afterwards, when he had recovered, he did co back, and tho nurse thought no more about it, until one day she received a parcel from the German officer. Rather surprised at so much politeness, she eagerly undid the parcel, and nearly fainted with horror on discovering, wrapped up in tissue paper, two baby’s hands cut off at tho wrists. Such monstrous behaviour seems inconceivable on the part of a man of a certain class, and therefore bettor educated than the mass of common soldiers. A story like this sets ono thinking of tho mother who must have been present when her child was mutilated. . . . Who will c.vor know the sufferings endured by Frcnfch women in these hours of terror and death, brought upon them by tho German war? They, too, have trodaep tho way to Calvary. •\ PATHETIC EXPRESSION OF PATRIOTISM. No more beautiful, although terribly pathetic testimony to that unquenchable spirit of self-sacrifice and heroic devotion which characterises French womanhood* of to-day has surely yet been published’ than tho following letter from a sister , to her brother which is quoted by Madame Drumont: — My Dear Brother,—l have heard that Charles and Lucien were killed on August 23. Eugeno is also dangerously wounded : as for Louis and Jean, they are dead also. Roe, 7 hoe disappeared. Mother is weeping, hut she says you must he strong and go and avenge them. I hope your superiors will allow you to do this. Jean got tho Legion of HonneuT. Do likclikewise. They have taken them all from us, out of olovon who were fighting eight are dead. My dear brother, do your duty—that is all we ask of you. God gave you your life, and He has the right to take it back again, mother says. We send you our best love, and although we should like to see you first . . . The Prussian* are here, Tendon's son i« dead: they have plundered everything. I have just come back from Gerberflliers, which they have completely destroyed. The cowards! Go, my dear brother, and make the offering of yonr life. We hope to oeo you again, for a sort of presentiment fells us to hope. We send yon our dearest, love. Farewell and au revoir, if God wills It.—Tour Sister. It is for onr sakes and for France. Think of your brothers and of your grandfather in ’7O. “How simple, and yet how grandl” comments Madame Drumont, and surely she says hut the hare truth when she adds:—“When the people feel liko this, the country cannot perish.” THE BRITISH SOLDIERS IN FRANCE. Madame Dromon t pays more than one compliment to the British troops. She says:— The Germans’ crimes outstrip th© imagination, but they are marked down for defeat, end they know it themselves. Tho English, Alliance surprised them and throw them-out in their calculations. England is helping us. We must acknowledge tho spirit of hor Army—its coolness and endurance. It is truo their commissariat is excellent. Their food ib good and nourishing, which helps them to como up into action feeling strong and hearty. We hear that to begin they l ■would not dig trenches, «3 they said they ivero soldiers, not masons. Certainly this mole-like warfare‘is enough to surprise anyone, but now tho English soldiers arc digging trenches just as ours are. Anyhow, as a soldier was saying tho other day, they aro charming companions \ not very effusive, but always to bo relied on.