March 31, 1920. We were glad to see that two of our most important Universities were again successful in obtaining first and second places in this year's boat-race. (As this was written before the race we crave the indulgence of our readers if our prophecy should prove incorrect.) Bradford Corporation is selling white collars to its citizens at sixpence a-piece. How the Labour Party proposes to... more...

MEN AND THINGS OF THE MOMENT. [Mr. Punch cannot hold himself responsible for the views expressed in the following correspondence.] The Mallaby-Deeley Emporium. Dear Mr. Punch,—I want you to use your influence with that great philanthropist, Mr. Mallaby-Deeley. I know that he is too modest to claim to be a benefactor of the race, but I am at least right in calling him "Mr.," for that is how he... more...

CLOTHES AND THE POET. ["The public will welcome an announcement that the standard clothing scheme may be revived on a voluntary basis."—The Times.] I do not ask for silk attire, For purple, no, nor puce; The only wear that I require Is something plain and loose, A quiet set of reach-me-downs for serviceable use. For these, which I must have because The honour of the Press Compels me, by... more...

A STORY WITH A POINT. (With Mr. Punch's apologies for not having sent it on to "The Spectator.") Geoffrey has an Irish terrier that he swears by. I don't mean by this that he invokes it when he becomes portentous, but he is always annoying me with tales, usually untruthful, of the wonderful things this dog has done. Now I have a pointer, Leopold, who really is a marvellous animal, and... more...

"SMALL ADS." "Where do you get servants from?" I asked. "From small ads.," said Phyllis promptly. I picked up the paper from the floor where I had thrown it in the morning. My wife is one of those rare women who always leave things where you put them. It is this trait that endears her to me. I ran my trained eye over an ad. column. "Got it at once," I said with... more...

HIS FUTURE. Part I.—The Proposal, 1920. "About this boy of ours, my dear," said Gerald. "Well, what about it?" said Margaret. "He weighed fourteen pounds and an eighth this morning, and he's only four months and ten days old, you know." "Is he? I mean, does he? Splendid. But what I was going to say was this: in view of the present social and economic disturbances and... more...

WITH THE AUXILIARY PATROL. An Honourable Record. Many years ago, in the reign of good Queen Victoria, a little ship sailed out of Grimsby Docks in all the proud bravery of new paint and snow-white decks, and passed the Newsand bound for the Dogger Bank. They had christened her the King George, and, though her feminine susceptibilities were perhaps a trifle piqued at this affront to her sex, it was a... more...

OUR BALLYBUN LOTTERY. [À propos of Premium Bonds it has been recalled that in his evidence, given some years ago before a Select Committee, the then Under-Secretary for Ireland stated that in that distressful country "lotteries are very much used for religious purposes by people of all denominations," and that "it would be flying in the face of public opinion, especially of the great... more...

THE DOMESTIC PROBLEM. "Well, I've been to see three of them now," she said. "The first is at Shepherd's Bush—" "What pipes!" I ejaculated. "What music! What wild ecstasy!" "—four hundred yards from the Central Tube, to be exact; and there's a large roller skating-rink next door. You never rolled, did you? Three sessions daily, the advertisement... more...

HOLIDAY ANTICIPATIONS. [Now that holiday-planning is in season we have pleasure in announcing a few proposed schemes for the recreation of some of the mighty brains that shape our destinies and guide our groping intelligences. But it must be clearly understood that in these inconstant times we cannot vouch for their authenticity or guarantee fulfilment.] Mr. Asquith's recent success in spotting... more...