Fougasse

“ Bateman gives us his brilliant life-study of the man who breathed on the glass in the British Museum, we realize that this is an inspiration far outside our range. “However did he think of it?” we say to ourselves in awe. When Mr. Morrow draws us “a little supper-party at the Borgias,” we have to admit sadly that the comedy of a supper-party at the Borgias would never have occurred to us. But when Fougasse describes to us his feelings in the presence of the Wedding Detective, or the conversation of the Club Bore in the library, then we beam upon him delightedly. ”

“ We ask ourselves how the phenomenon is to be explained. The explanation is simple. A fougasse—I quote the dictionary—is a small mine from six to twelve feet underground charged either with powder or loaded shells; and if a British sapper subaltern, severely wounded at Gallipoli, beguiles the weary years of hospital by drawing little pictures and sending them up to Punch, he may as well call himself Fougasse as anything else. Particularly if his real name is Bird, and if a Bird, whose real name is Yeats, is already drawing for Punch. ”

“ Prospective Purchaser: “And why do your advertisements say that yours is essentially the car for the owner-driver?”
Salesman (under notice to leave) : “Because no self-respecting chauffeur will condescend to be seen in one.” ”

“ Once the downward path of deceit is trodden, there is seemingly no end to it.
We have our artist, then, Kenneth Bird of Morar, Inverness. When I first met him at the beginning of 1919, he was just out of hospital, swinging slowly along with the aid of a pair of rocking-horse crutches. This was on his annual journey south, for they have the trains in Morar now. Once a year Fougasse makes the great expedition to London, to see what the latest fashions may be, and is often back in Morar again before they have changed to something later. I have seen him each year ”

“ QUITE CRICKET
[98]
“Have you heard Brown’s story of how he scored off a taxi-driver this morning?”
“Yes. I told him it last night.”
[99]
CONSOLATION
[100]
Fair Partner: “One always meets so many interesting people here that I get quite confused. Now tell me, which Mr. Jones are you?”
Jones: “Me? Oh, I’m only the Jones who’s invited to brighten up a dull party.” ”

“ Fougasse is wrong here, for his hands could stop anything, and one would never run four to him. I doubt if you would ever run four to a black waistcoat, their hands are so big. Slow in the return of course, but safe, safe. ”