(3) Certain Subalterns.—The greatest man on earth.
(4) Tommy Atkins.—A benevolent old buffer in scarlet and gold who periodically takes an inexplicable interest in Tommy’s belt and brass buttons. An excuse for his sergeant’s making him present arms.
(5) The British Public.—A name in the newspapers.
(6) Himself.—(a) Before dinner: An unfortunate, overworked and ill-used old man. (b) After dinner: England’s hope and Sir WILLIAM ROBERTSON’S right hand.
(7) His Wife.—A very lovable, but helpless, baby.
* * * * *
From an Indian teacher’s report on the progress of his school:—
“A sad experience. Spirits for a time were very high. Our menials talked of exploits and masters of glory in store. But soon the famines set in. The treachery of the elements ravished the hopes of agriculturists, the major portion of the supporters of the —— school. The puffs of misery bleached white the flush of early and latter times; dinner-hours grew few and far between; and with the Sun of Loaf sank all wakefulness to light and culture.”
This last feature sounds a little like Berlin.
* * * * *
[Illustration: RATIONAL SERVICE.
JOHN BULL. “SACRIFICE INDEED! WHY,
I’M FEELING FITTER EVERY MINUTE,
AND I’VE STILL PLENTY OF WEIGHT TO SPARE.”]
* * * * *
[Illustration: “HOW THIS EGG GOT PAST THE FOOD CONTROLLER I CAN’T IMAGINE.”]
* * * * *
THE THREE DICTATORS.
(Being a tragedy of the moment and incidentally a guide to the art of handing out correspondence to the typist.)
I.
There are, of course, as many styles of dictating letters as there are of writing them; but three stand out. One is the Indignant Confidential; one the Hesitant Tactful; and one the No-Nonsense Efficient. Bitter experience in three orderly London houses only a day or so ago chances to have led to such complete examples of each of these styles that the reader has the felicity of acquiring at the same time a valuable insight into business methods and a glimpse of what Nature in the person of Jack Frost can do with even the best regulated of cities.
We will take first the Hesitant Tactful, where the typist is not merely considered as a human being but invited to become an ally. The dictator is Mr. Vernon Crombie.
“Oh, Miss Carruthers, there’s a letter I want to dictate and get off by hand at once, because my house isn’t fit to live in through burst pipes. The plumbers promised to send yesterday, but didn’t, and to-day they can’t come, it seems, and really it’s most serious. Ceilings being ruined, you know. The bore is that there aren’t any other plumbers that I know of, and one is so at the mercy of these people that we must go very delicately. You understand. We mustn’t say a word to set their backs up any higher than they already are. Anger’s no good in this case. Here we must be tactful, and I want you to help me. I knew you would.