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spinsters left to themselves might have played cards； but they
thought of the poor bishops who would have had to look on envious。
The bishops and the spinsters might have sung ballads； but the
British general after dinner does not care for ballads； and had
mentioned it。 The bishops and the generals might have told each
other stories； but could not before the ladies。 My clergyman friend
stood the awful solemnity of three evenings； then cautiously felt his
way towards revelry。 He started with an intellectual game called
〃Quotations。〃 You write down quotations on a piece of paper； and the
players have to add the author's name。 It roped in four old ladies；
and the youngest bishop。 One or two generals tried a round； but not
being familiar with quotations voted the game slow。
The next night my friend tried 〃Consequences。〃 〃Saucy Miss A。 met
the gay General B。 in〃most unlikely places。 〃He said。〃 Really it
was fortunate that General B。 remained too engrossed in the day
before yesterday's Standard to overhear； or Miss A。 could never have
again faced him。 〃And she replied。〃 The suppressed giggles excited
the curiosity of the non…players。 Most of the bishops and half the
generals asked to be allowed to join。 The giggles grew into roars。
Those standing out found that they could not read their papers in
comfort。
From 〃Consequences〃 the descent was easy。 The tables and chairs were
pushed against the walls； the bishops and the spinsters and the
generals would sit in a ring upon the floor playing hunt the slipper。
Musical chairs made the two hours between bed and dinner the time of
the day they all looked forward to： the steady trot with every nerve
alert； the ear listening for the sudden stoppage of the music； the
eye seeking with artfulness the likeliest chair； the volcanic
silence； the mad scramble。
The generals felt themselves fighting their battles over again； the
spinsters blushed and preened themselves； the bishops took interest
in proving that even the Church could be prompt of decision and swift
of movement。 Before the week was out they were playing Puss…in…the…
corner； ladies feeling young again were archly beckoning to stout
deans； to whom were returning all the sensations of a curate。 The
swiftness with which the gouty generals found they could still hobble
surprised even themselves。
＇Why are we so young？＇
But it is in the music…hall； as I have said； that I am most impressed
with the youthfulness of man。 How delighted we are when the long man
in the little boy's hat； having asked his short brother a riddle； and
before he can find time to answer it； hits him over the stomach with
an umbrella！ How we clap our hands and shout with glee！ It isn't
really his stomach： it is a bolster tied round his waistwe know
that； but seeing the long man whack at that bolster with an umbrella
gives us almost as much joy as if the bolster were not there。
I laugh at the knockabout brothers； I confess； so long as they are on
the stage； but they do not convince me。 Reflecting on the
performance afterwards； my dramatic sense revolts against the 〃plot。〃
I cannot accept the theory of their being brothers。 The difference
in size alone is a strain upon my imagination。 It is not probable
that of two children of the same parents one should measure six foot
six； and the other five foot four。 Even allowing for a freak of
nature； and accepting the fact that they might be brothers； I do not
believe they would remain so inseparable。 The short brother would
have succeeded before now in losing the long brother。 Those
continual bangings over the head and stomach would have weakened
whatever affection the short brother might originally have felt
towards his long relation。 At least； he would insist upon the
umbrella being left at home。
〃I will go for a walk with you；〃 he might say； 〃I will stand stock
still with you in Trafalgar Square in the midst of the traffic while
you ask me silly riddles； but not if you persist in bringing with you
that absurd umbrella。 You are too handy with it。 Put it back in the
rack before we start； or go out by yourself。〃
Besides； my sense of justice is outraged。 Why should the short
brother be banged and thumped without reason？ The Greek dramatist
would have explained to us that the shorter brother had committed a
crime against the gods。 Aristophanes would have made the longer
brother the instrument of the Furies。 The riddles he asked would
have had bearing upon the shorter brother's sin。 In this way the
spectator would have enjoyed amusement combined with the satisfactory
sense that Nemesis is ever present in human affairs。 I present the
idea； for what it may be worth； to the concoctors of knockabout
turns。
＇Where Brotherly （and Sisterly） Love reigns supreme＇
The family tie is always strong on the music…hall stage。 The
acrobatic troupe is always a 〃Family〃： Pa； Ma； eight brothers and
sisters； and the baby。 A more affectionate family one rarely sees。
Pa and Ma are a trifle stout； but still active。 Baby； dear little
fellow； is full of humour。 Ladies do not care to go on the music…
hall stage unless they can take their sister with them。 I have seen
a performance given by eleven sisters； all the same size and
apparently all the same age。 She must have been a wonderful woman
the mother。 They all had golden hair； and all wore precisely similar
frocksa charming but decolletee arrangementin claret…coloured
velvet over blue silk stockings。 So far as I could gather； they all
had the same young man。 No doubt he found it difficult amongst them
to make up his mind。
〃Arrange it among yourselves；〃 he no doubt had said； 〃it is quite
immaterial to me。 You are so much alike； it is impossible that a
fellow loving one should not love the lot of you。 So long as I marry
into the family I really don't care。〃
When a performer appears alone on the music…hall stage it is easy to
understand why。 His or her domestic life has been a failure。 I
listened one evening to six songs in succession。 The first two were
sung by a gentleman。 He entered with his clothes hanging upon him in
shreds。 He explained that he had just come from an argument with his
wife。 He showed us the brick with which she had hit him； and the
bump at the back of his head that had resulted。 The funny man's
marriage is never a success。 But really this seems to be his own
fault。 〃She was such a lovely girl；〃 he tells us； 〃with a face
well； you'd hardly call it a face； it was more like a gas explosion。
Then she had those wonderful sort of eyes that you can see two ways
at once with； one of them looks down the street； while the other one
is watching round the corner。 Can see you coming any way。 And her
mouth！〃
It appears that if she stands anywhere near the curb and smiles；
careless people mistake her for a pillar…box； and drop letters into
her。
〃And such a voice！〃 We are told it is a perfect imitation of a
motor…car。 When she laughs people spring into doorways to escape
being run over。
If he will marry that sort of woman； what can he expect？ The man is
asking for it。
The lady who followed him also told us a sad story of misplaced
trust。 She also was comicso the programme assured us。 The
humorist appears to have no luck。 She had lent her lover money to
buy the ring； and the licence； and to furnish the flat。 He did buy
the ring； and he furnished the flat； but it was for another lady。
The audience roared。 I have heard it so often asked； 〃What is
humour？〃 From observation； I should describe it as other people's
troubles。
A male performer followed her。 He came on dressed in a night…shirt；
carrying a baby。 His wife； it seemed； had gone out for the evening
with the lodger。 That was his joke。 It was the most successful song
of the whole six。
＇The one sure Joke。＇
A philosopher has put it on record that he always felt sad when he
reflected on the sorrows of humanity。 But when he reflected on its
amusements he felt sadder still。
Why was it so funny that the baby had the lodger's nose？ We laughed
for a full minute by the clock。
Why do I love to see a flabby…faced man go behind curtains； and；
emerging in a wig and a false beard； say that he is now Bismarck or
Mr。 Chamberlain？ I have felt resentment against the Lightning
Impersonator ever since the days of Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee。
During that summer every Lightning Impersonator ended his show by
shouting； while the band played the National Anthem； 〃Queen
Victoria！〃 He was not a bit like Queen Victoria。 He did not even；
to my thinking； look a lady； but at once I had to stand up in my
place and sing 〃God save the Queen。〃 It was a time of enthusiastic
loyalty； if you did not spring up quickly some patriotic old fool
from the back would reach across and hit you over the head with the
first thing he could lay his hands upon。
Other music…hall performers caught at the idea。 By ending up with
〃God save the Queen〃 any performer； however poor； could retire in a
whirlwind of applause。 Niggers