GERMAN MEASLES.
"Francesca," I said, "you must admit that at last I have you at a disadvantage."
"I admit nothing of the sort."
"Well," I said, "have you or have you not got German measles? It seems almost an insult to put such a question to a woman of your energy and brilliant intellectual capacity, but you force me to it."
"Dr. Manley—"
"Come, come, don't fob it off on the Doctor. He didn't wilfully provide you with an absurd attack of this childish disease."
"No, he didn't; but when I was getting along quite nicely with the idea that I was suffering from a passing headache he butted in and sent me to bed as a German measler—and now we've all got it."
"Yes," I said, "you've all got it, all my little chickens and their dam—you're the dam, remember that, Francesca—Muriel's got it, Nina's got it, Alice has got it and Frederick has got it very slightly, but he insists on having all the privileges of the worst kind of invalid; and you've got it, Francesca, and I'm left scatheless in a position of unlimited power and no responsibility."
"Yes," she said, "it's terrible, but you will use your strength mercifully."
"I'm not at all sure about that. At first I felt like one of those old prisoner Johnnies—Baron TRENCK, you know, or LATUDE—who were all shaky and mild when they were at last released; but now I've had time to think—yes, I've had time to think."
"And what is the result of your thoughts?"
"The result," I said, "is that I'm determined to do things thoroughly. I've mastered all your jealously-guarded secrets and I've allowed the strong wind of a man's intellect to blow through them. I am facing the cook on a new system and am dealing with the tradesmen in a spirit of inexorable resolution. The housemaid is being brought to heel and has already begun not to leave her brushes and dust-pans lying about on the floors of the library and the drawing-room. Stern measures are being taken with the kitchen-maid; and Parkins, that ancient servitor, is slowly being reduced to obedience. Even the garden is feeling the new influence and potatoes are being planted where no potatoes were ever planted before. Everything, in fact, is being reformed."
"I warn you," said Francesca, "that your reforms will not be allowed to go on. As soon as I can get rid of the German measles I shall restore everything to its former condition."
"But that," I said, "is the counter-revolution."
"It is; and it's going to begin as soon as I get out of bed."
"And what are you going to bring out of bed with you?"
"Common sense," said Francesca.
"Not at all," I said. "You're going to bring out of bed with you that hard reactionary bureaucratic spirit which all but ruined Russia and is in process of ruining Germany. It will be just as if the TSARITSA got loose and began to have her own way again. By the way, Francesca, what does one do when the butcher says there won't be any haunch of mutton till Tuesday, or when the grocer refuses you your due amount of sugar?"
"A TSARITSA," said Francesca haughtily, "cannot concern herself with sugar or haunches of mutton."
"But suppose that the TSARITSA has got German measles. Couldn't she manage to beat up an interest in mundane affairs?"
"I'll tell you what," said Francesca.
"Do," I said; "I'm dying to hear it."
"Well, you'd better let the strong wind of a man's intellect blow through them."
"What," I said—"through the haunch of mutton?"
"Yes, you could do without the haunch, you know, and score off the butcher."
"That's a sound idea. You're not so badly measled as I thought you were."
"Oh," she said, "I shall soon be rid of them altogether."
"To tell you the truth, I wish you'd hurry up."
"Long live the counter-revolution!"
"Oh, as long as you like," I said.
"Have you given the children their medicine and taken their temperatures?"
"I'm just off to do it," I said.
R.C.L.
SCENE: A lonely road somewhere in France.
Diminutive Warrior (suddenly confronted with ferocious specimen of the local fauna). "LUMME! IF IT AIN'T THE REGIMENTAL COAT-OF-ARMS COME TO LIFE!"
"The Wady Ghuzzeh, or river of Gaza, a stream-bed which makes no large assertion on the map. But it 'just divides the desert from the sewn.'"—Sunday Paper.
Being, as you might say, a mere thread.
Extracts from an article entitled "London Sights: An Australian's Impressions":—
"When all is over and we are back where the coyote cries ... when the Rockies are looking down at us from their snowy heights, and the night-time silence steals across the fir-bordered foothills...."—Sunday Times.
Yet what is all this to the longing of the Canadian for the nightly howl of the kangaroo and the song of the wombat flitting among the blue-gums in his native bush?
According to a French philosopher mankind is divided into two categories, Les Huns et les autres.
"Sydney, January 2.
Concurrently with the inauguration of the new time schedule at 2 a.m. on Monday a violent earth tremor was experienced at Orange. An accompanying noise lasted about a half minute."—Brisbane Courier.
Another family quarrel between Κρονος and Γη.
"Petrograd, Wednesday,
The Council of Workmen's Delegates has issued an appeal to the proletariat, which contains the following striking passage: We shall defend our liberty to the utmost against all attacks within and without. The Russian revolution will not quail before the bayca fwyaa, mfwyawayqawyqa."—Dublin Evening Mail.
If that won't frighten it nothing will.
"YOU WOULDN'T THINK IT TO LOOK AT 'IM, BUT WHEN I SAYS ''ANDS UP,' 'E ANSWERS BACK IN PUFFICK ENGLISH, 'STEADY ON WITH YER BLINKIN' TOOTHPICK,' 'E SEZ, 'AND I'LL COME QUIET.'"