Michael D.Heath-Caldwell M.Arch.

1899 - 1900 - 1901

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School Book, "Reproduction" - C.H.Heath, Division 1st NC

Puns
The great Lexicographer, Dr Johnson said that puns were low jests, uttered in pot-houses, so that he does not appear to have had much regard for punsters. There seem to have always been punsters, and when we see a pun in classics, we call it an onomotopoeia, Pope Gregory, when he saw some British slaves at Rome, said, "Non Angli, sed Angelisunt," which means, "they are not Angles but Angels," and the early fathers of the church used to play upon words in their writing, for Tentillian says, "Laborare east orare." The best punster was the rev. Sidney Smith, when somebody told him that his coat was too short, he said, "It will be long before I get a new one." And when someone said to him, "I see that you never wear a coat," and he said, "No sire, I never was." 

Puns must be always spontaneous, a bishop once said, "I was ordered abroad for a change and a rest, but the waiters got a change, and the landlords got the rest;" this was a very good pun, but we do not know how long it took the bishop to think of it. 

A better instance of an ecclesiasticle pun is this. A Clergyman of the Church of England, and a dissenter were having an argument, and the dissenter said, "Well, on thing which I cannot agree with in your church is the bench of bishops." Well! how do you manage it, in your church," asked the clergyman. "Oh, we have a  board," said the dissenter. "Well," said the clergyman, "a board is the same as a bench, without any legs." He must have thought of this pun on the spur of the moment. 

But the habitual punster is an awful person, and he eventually gets forsaken by all his friends; if you tell him that your sister Amelia is very ill, he says, "Oh, I hope her condition will soon be ameliorated. And the poet Hood, on his death bed said, "Well anyway, after I am gone the undertakers will obtain a livelyhood." 

It is excusable to pun occasionally, but above all do not change letters about, and say "Hush the brat," instead of, "Brush the hat." For this is the worst form of punning.

Excuses
There is a well-known French proverb, which says, "He who excuses himself, accuses himself." And this is very often true. When there is a row in the North Dormitories, there is generally some boy, who says, "Oh, please sir, it was'not me, I have been in bed reading, and have not spoken a word for the last half hour," but he does not often rid himself of suspicion, by saying that.

And again there there is the boy, who is late for prayers, in the morning, and says that he did not hear the bell, or that he had to have a button sewn on, or that his watch is ten minutes late, but a boy once made it worse, by saying that his watch was ten minutes fast. Then there is the boy, who does not know his Latin translation, he says because Mr Wood-Hill would not translate it to him, or because he could not find a dictionary, or Mr Gorton kept him looking over his exercise for 20 minutes, while the real reason, which is not far to seek, is that he was too lazy to look out the words.

Then masters do always remember the gender of a noun and they say, "Ah, that noun is a very rare one, it hardly ever comes in classics and it is a long time since I have seen it." But I think the best plea for ignorance was that given by an Oxford man in a divinity examination. He was asked the names of the minor prophets. So he said, "Far be it from me to distinguish such holy men, I will therefore give the names of the King's of Israel and Judah." Which was the only thing he knew. But work is by no means the only thing in which excuses are made about. We all know the cricketer who will never believe that he was out leg before wicket. Once a boy went out rubbing his shoulder, when he had been given out lbw, to make the people believe that he was not out really, and I was the umpire. Then there is the tennis player, who cannot get a racquet to suit him, the croquet-player whose mallet turns in his hand, just as he is playing. But it is generally the people who make excuses, when anything goes wrong, who side most when they do anything right. But generally if we are telling a man, what we have done, "He says," to himself, "I wonder whether he wishes me to believe that." No doubt you know what the poet Burns said. 
"Oh, that God the gift could give us to see ourselves as others see us." If we had that gift, we should not side so much.

Soap
The mixture of the natural fat of certain animals, and  caustic alkalines, which is called soap, has been used for a long time, but if you look in the popular encyclopedia you will find that soap was not made till the year 1823, when it was made by Chereur who published his researches about animal fats, about that year.

One of the characteristics of an Englishman, is the consistency with which he demands his morning tub, and indeed, he often makes himself an object of astonishment to foreigners. When Mr A.J.Butter went out to Egypt to teach the Khedive's sons the first thing he did, when he got to the palace, was to ask for a bath and a dozen towels, and he distinctly heard him mutter, "Allah is wise, and Allah knows everything, but what in the name of Allah does he want twelve towels for." The Egyptians hardly ever wash; and when they do, they do it in a tank, which is only cleaned out about once a year. They wrap themselves up in sheets from head to foot and dab a little water on their faces, and rinse their mouths out, (this is nearly as bad as the tooth-brush on an old Atlantic liner, and is chained to its place, lest anyone should take it away).

With the Romans the bath was one of the chief events of the day, and although they did not actually use soap, they used hot-air and hot and cold water and even a skin scraper to get the dirt out. An old Roman bath was found near Tyford and the hot air chambers could be distinctly seen.

The ancient Greeks used to bathe at lot as well and when Agamemnon came back from war, he was murdered in his bath, by his wife.

Soap is now used by most people in England, but sometimes boys at schools are in such a hurry that they must omit the use of soap or tooth-powder, but let us hope this never happens in schools which we have anything to do with. There was a certain public school which was not considered a good one because there were not proper washing arrangements and the boys used to go about with dirty heads and there is another, where the boys go about, and are very smart, but they never learn anything, and this is a very popular one.

There was once a man called Dr Graham who invented earth-baths. He used to busy (bury?) himself with nothing on, and powder his hair in front of an admiring audience, like sparrows who have sand or dust-baths, but water is the proper thing for human-beings to wash in. People used to think that you caught a cold if you washed too much, and an old farmer, who thought he had got rheumatism by washing his feet, was heard to say that, "no one would catch him washing his feet again." But science had discovered that it is healthy to have a morning bath and to sleep with a window open. 

Essay on the Force of Example
"Example is better than precept," is a very true proverb, and you may preach for a long time but it does not follow that anything will happen from it. But if one day you set a good example, and the next day a bad one, you are sure to have a lot more followers on the second day than on the first; humane nature is not sufficiently strong, not to do anything bad, when there is a chance.

Look at fashions for instance, they exist even in schools, and when one boy gets a flying sausage, no boy in the whole school is satisfied till he too is the possessor or one. We are exactly like a flock of sheep, when one goes through a gap in the hedge, all the others wish to follow. It is the same in cricket, a very strong side  often gets beaten, because the first two or three batsmen come out soon, but if there is someone to go in a play a steady game, or in other words, to set a good example, the others begin to play better. There was once a boy here, who made himself a helmet out of silver paper and a wooden sword, and son the whole school was turned into an army, not a copse-army, but a real proper one with lieutenants and colonels and generals and a commander-in-chief. The whole school army was photographed in uniform, and I have got the photograph still. Once a boy got a hoop and began bowling it about the place, and said he was the Flying Dutchman. Then nobody was satisfied, till they had a hoop, and the whole place was turned into a railway, there were junctions and signal-boxes and everything. But we ought to be careful not to crib, although tons of other chaps do it; I don't mean using a translation, because that is necessary at some public-schools, but to go and show up a translation, and say that it is yours, when it is your neighbour's, may lead to signing some other person's name to a cheque, and going to prison.   which is a very good place for "he who brings what is not his'n." I remember once, when I was at the Guildhall, some of the scenery caught fire, and immediately people got up, and old ladies waved their handkerchiefs about, and there would have been a panic, if an actor had not come on to the stage and said "There is no danger, anyone who moves is a fool;" of course there was danger really, but we did not want to be thought fools so we sat still, and soon the fire was put out. 

Bank Holiday
It is said that English people do not enjoy Bank holidays, whether it is because of the reservedness and taciturnity of Englishmen I do not know, but I think that the ordinary British working man would prefer to spend his Bank holiday, doing his ordinary work. If he does not possess a wife who insists on packing off to the sea for the day, what is he to do on the feast of St.Lulbock.

To begin with bank holiday is generally wet, and it is not much fun sitting in a poky little room listening to your next door neighbour practicing the "honeysuckle and the bee," which generally ends in a B flat, on a broken-winded concertina, and even Sir John Lulbock, who is a great authority for bees, would hardly suggest that way of spending bank holiday. Even supposing it is a fine day, there is nothing much to do, unless there is a cricket-match or a foot-ball match in the neighbourhood, or if you do not belong to some society like the "free foresters," and there is a procession, in which you can walk through the village in all the glory of a green ribbon, or whatever the insignia of the society happens to be. Lots of men become freemasons just because they will be able to dress up and put on masonic badges. For we all love dressing-up from the Lord Chancellor in his wig and robes down to the street-urchin with the tin sword who says that he is Lord Kitchener.

You cannot travel on a bank holiday because the railways are all blocked up by people who think it their duty to go by train on a bank holiday. And if you do not go by train you cannot get beyond the scope of a bicycle ride or of a drive, unless of course you are the possessor of a motor, in which case probably bank holiday would not affect you. I think it would be much better to have four days holiday in the year, the time being settled by the workmen and their employers. Then if they were entitled to a day off every three months whenever they liked, they would have something to look forward to. Of course there would be difficulties to carry this into effect, but it is the duty of legislators to encounter difficulties and to put down things that are a bother and it is high time that bank holiday should be abolished.

The Tournament
Five knights rode up the platform on which the tents of the challengers were situated, and tapping the shields of the knight, which they wished to fight, they rode back again down the slope. Some of the spectators were disappointed at this, for they wished to see a fight to the death.Then the trumpets sound and the five knights faced the Templar and his associates, the first one was unhorsed by Brian de Bois-Guilbert, and the second one broke his lance by hitting his opponent, which was considered a worse disgrace than being unhorsed, the third and fourth knights fared no better, but the fifth met his opponent and both the lances were broken.

Then Brian de Bois-Guilbert and the other Norman knights retreated slowly to their tents, while the other four knights picked themselves up and slunk off the field, not so the fifth, he stopped in the field a little while, and earned the applause of the spectators. Then two more lots fought the Templars, but none of them fared any better, then three knights went and challenged the Normans who they thought were not so good as the rest, but they too were beaten.

And then from behind the tents of the Normans some Saracenic music from the Holy land blared forth defiance. But no one answered. Cedric, the saxon did not like this, for he thought it seemed as if the English had been beaten by the Normans,but he had never learnt games of chivalry himself, so he said to Athelstone, "My lord, are you not going to tilt today?" But Athelstane answered, "There is no need to arm today, to-morrow I shall fight in the mellee." And somebody else said it is better to be the best of a hundred men, instead of two, now Cedric did not like this speech because Athelstone had used the word melee, but he did not say anything.

Then no one came, and the old knights and nobles said to one another, "they are not so warlike as they used to be." And Prince John was just going to give the signal for the banquet to begin, when a single trumpet sounded from the north, and a young knight who bore on his shield an uprooted oak, and beneath it a Spanish word meaning "disinherited." The young knight rode straight up to the tent of Brian de Bois-Guilbert and to everybody's astonishment he hit his shield with the sharp end of his spur, till it clanged again. Everyone stood aghast for striking the shield with the sharp end meant the challenge to mortal combat. No one doubted for a moment that the Templar would win. Then the trumpets sounded for the contest to begin, and the knights rode together and both broke their spears broke. (?)

The Tell tale tunnel. 
The night express had just stopped at Grantham, and the engines were just being changed for the next long run, which was to York, and was a hundred miles long. I had got out to stretch my legs, and so had the rest of the passengers, there were not many, and one could tell at a glance that the train was not crowded.

Then came the cries of "Get in for the North;" I should not have recognised the man who came and got in next door, but that he had a loose travelling cap, with the lappels tied under his chin, and a cheek ulster. Then just as the train was starting a man came running along the platform, and came straight for my carriage when he was bundled in next door, he had evidently over-run himself, and had not come till the last moment. I knew he had not got into the train before.

Then the (train?) started, but I fancied that I heard a groan from the next carriage, and I lent out the window and shouted out, "Is there anything wrong in there," but I got no answer, I did it again but still I got no answer. Then as we were going through a tunnel the lamps flashed on the walls, and reflected and I saw rather indistinctly two figures one man holding the other in his arms. Undoubtedly there was something wrong, and if there was not some foul play going on, why did not the man with the ulster ring the bell.

I thought for about a minute and then rang the bell, and almost before the train stopped, I was out and I ran and looked in the carriage, then the guard and some of the passengers came and opened the door. The man who had been late was lying on the floor, and the man with the cheek ulster had disappeared. Then someone went along the train to see if there was a doctor, then I told the guard my story, but he did not believe it and asked me how I happened to know such a lot about it, and when the doctor said that the man was dead, the guard said he would go on to York and told me that I must go on with him but I told him that I would not go and that asked him (?) to be good enough to take leave of my things and while I walked back to Grantham.

Then just as I had told my story to an inspector who told me the name of the dead man was Batman ( Bateau?) who was very rich, when I saw the man in the ulster enter the ticket office. Then giving the inspector two sovereigns, I told him to find out where the man with the ulster took a ticket to and take me one for the same place. 

After Six.
First of all Jenson got up and made a neat or rather what was meant to be a neat little speech. He began, "Ladies and Gentlemen, - I don't mean that, - Gentlemen, as it is rather difficult to find something to do, (I find plenty to do myself" on these long nights, I thought it would be a good thing to have a reunion, (here Jenson smiled, at his own joke and the audience applauded).

The first thing was a song by Jenson, he sang or rather tried to sing, "Hearts of Oak." Hearts of Oak is not such a bad song in itself, but when sung by Jenson, it is different. After that, Jenson announced that I would sing, Very pleased I am sure but I don't know what to sing. However, I got up and tried to sing a song, but when I got to about the middle, I forgot the rest, and I had to apologise and begin another, this time I tried, "Married to a Mermaid." I began, "It was, it was (oh bother I can't get the right note), It was on on (Ah, I have got it at last)." Then I got through it, and there was great applause, but Jenson did not like it at all, he never cares for anything, if it has not got a chorus, so that he can make a row.

Then Gourmard got up and read something that was very funny, it was rather bad luck on us, the audience saw when the joke was coming, by the smile on Gourmard's face, and so they began laughing beforehand, but we could never find out where the joke came in. Then Gourmard finished amid great applause, and I found with horror that it was my turn to read something, but I saw the "Ingoldsby Legends" lying about so I snatched them up, and then read the first poem. I came to, but I found that like all these library books, half of it was out so there was nothing for it but another apology, so then I began another one, and at last got through it.

Then Parry sang, Parry really does not sing at all badly, when he had finished he was applauded, but Jenson did not like it at all. Then Gourmard sang, and I thought that was the end, but would not have it. 

The Battle of Waterloo
If you to to Oxford, you will see near Magdalen bridge, a monument, and it is to commemorate peace, after nearly a quarter of a century's fighting. But if we look at the date of the monument we shall see that it is 1814. And before, in this book we have read of the four great fifteens. 1215, Magna Charta, 1415 the date of the battle of Agincourt, and 1715, an attempt of the Stuarts to recover the throne, and then 1815, which is the date of the great battle of Waterloo. So we see that the rejoicing of 1814 was in vain, for one day, news reached England that Napoleon Bonaparte had escaped from Elba, and landed at Cannes, where, on the news of his approach, the army, without any exception deserted their new king, and went back to their old one.

By the beginning of April Napoleon was at the head of an army in Paris. At his approach Louis XVIII and his minister fled. Then Napoleon fought a British army at Quatre Bas, and defeated the Prussians at Ligny. But France was full of Russian, Prussian, Austrian and British soldiers all fighting against Napoleon. Wellington retreated to the little town of Waterloo, where he resolved to make his last stand against Napoleon. Waterloo, which gave its name to the great battle lies a little to the south of Brussels and is separated from it by the forest of Soigniew. 

The Night of the seventeenth of June was very wet and stormy, and the British got soaked to the skin, lying in the unripe corn. The British army was not nearly the number of the French, and was mostly composed of Belgians and (Hanovarians) (those gallant fellows), most of whom were unused to fighting and were arrant cowards. The French had double the number of guns, than the allies had.

At daybreak of the 18th, Napoleon's cavalry charged up the slope at the British squares, only to be beaten back; Napoleon's plan was to storm at the British with his guns, and then before the smoke had cleared away, the cavalry came charging up. Both generals were eagerly awaiting help. Napoleon was waiting for an army of 30,000 men under Marshall Grovelly, which was lying, watching the Prussians, and Wellington was waiting for the Prussians under Blucher. He knew that he would come if he could, but he might not be able.

All the morning the fight raged, with terrible loss on both sides. About two o'clock firing was heard on the French right, and it turned out to be the vanguard of the Prussians under Bulow. The French defeat was now about complete and the British charged down to on them, the pursuit was taken up by the Prussians, and many a French soldier experienced that night the unsparing hand of the vanguished at Ligny. Wellington and Blucher met on the field, and Napoleon rode off among his flying troops. 

The King and the Bishop.
When Stephen died, to the joy of everyone, his cousin Henry II came to the throne. He became king in the year 1134. Anyone who is interested in English history ought to know a lot about the long reign of Henry II. In the year 1118 a boy named Thomas Becket or Thomas a'Becket was born. he became distinguished for his learning and became what we should now call mayor of the City of London. He became a priest and was sent by Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury, on many important messages to the Pope at Rome. He soon came under the notice of the king, who brought him to high honour, and eventually made him Chancellor, or keeper of his seal.

Henry II tried to be a good king, and do justice to the people, but it was a very hard thing to do in those days. The nobles in their castles clad in armour, did not care what happened to the poor people, who were not so well armed. But the king was wise, and he knew very well that he would be much stronger if he did justice to all. But besides the king and the nobles, there was another great power, it was the church. There were throughout the land churches and monastries, and in lots of these there were placed called "sanctuaries," where people who were being pursued might go, and nobody might touch them, and this was a very good thing; and also there were monks who used to teach the people to read and write, for all the schools were kept by monks in those days.

And last but not least, it was a good thing to have someone to teach the people the difference between right and wrong, and to help them against the rich and powerful. But by degrees the monasteries and abbeys got very rich and powerful, and they began to forget what they were meant to do. The king not content with making his favourite, Becket, chancellor, made him Archbishop of Canterbury. But when Becket became Archbishop, he laid aside all his former splendour, and began that quarrel with the king which ended in his death. 

The Sirdar
Major-General Horatio Herbert Kitchener, is exactly 42. (born 1850) He is taller than most people. He may be said to be a machine, he ought to be exhibited in the "Palace Industrial Exhibition," and labelled "Great Britain, Exhibit No.1, the Soudan Machine." He has applied himself exclusively to the study of the Soudan. He began in the Royal Engineers, good soil for becoming machines instead of men.

A Captain in the Royal Engineers, he went to Palestine on an expedition, and then joined the Egyptian army. He was one of the twenty five officers who started it. And he became 2nd in command of a cavalry regiment. He was with Sir Herbert Stewart when the transport failed, and he studied the failures and successes of others. Others had thought of crossing the desert,but he built a railway, and turned a raid in to a conquest.

Then he took command at Suakin, and one of his most important fights was half a failure. He attacked Osman Digna when a lot of his men were away raiding, and then he had better withdraw, although it was quite an honourable retreat, because his force was mostly composed of "irregulars," but he had his revenge afterwards when he crossed Osman Digna's trenches with some Soudanese.

He succeeded Sir Francis Grenfell as Sirdar, and he very soon shewed that he meant to become Sirdar altogether; it was then that the young Khedive travelled South to the frontier, insulting every British officer he met so Kitchener threatened to resign, so the Khedive had to issue a proclamation praising the army.

Thus it happened that when most men would think themselves lucky to have a regiment, he found himself at the head of an army advancing to victory. And so he went south, concquering the whole time, but he did not hurry. The Dervishes would first be surprised, and then think themselves perfectly secure till one morning they would see Kitchener closing in on them from all sides, and by the afternoon they would be dead; stern and relentless the machine of the Soudan went on, knowing more than anyone else about the Soudan, not having spent fifteen years in vain.

Except to a few friends in England and some old comrades, he is a machine, but that does not follow that he is not popular, he feeds his officers well enough to keep them efficient, and works them nearly as hard as himself, in fact treats them as if they are the wheels of the machine. Every general who always wins is liked. But there is one human quality thing, of which he has not purged himself, that is ambition, but let those who have not succeeded write homilies on ambition, strong as iron the Soudan machine rolls on to Khartoum. 
(With Kitchen to - - - ) 

1901

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