Recently, I came across this listing for a London magazine:
Picture Politics, A Penny Popular Monthly [No. 104, June-July 1902] ed. F. Carruthers Gould (The Westminster Gazette and Budget; London, 1d, 16pp, 9½” x 13″)
- [fiction and poetry only have been listed] [JE]
- 2 · “Peace”: June 1, 1902 · Arabella Romilly · pm
- 8 · A Way They Have in the Navy · W. H. H. · pm; [by William Hope Hodgson ??????]
- 11 · The Political Jungle-Book: III. Hugheera’s Hunting · Saki · vi
- 13 · The New Gregorian Chant · W. H. H. · pm; [by William Hope Hodgson ??????]
- 15 · May 24 · S. C. S. · pm
- 15 · The West Indian Disaster · L. A. C. · pm
- 15 · A Song of Peace · E. C. · pm
As you can see, it lists two poems possibly being by WHH. Does anyone know anything about this or have a way to track down a copy of this magazine? Any help is deeply appreciated.–Sam Gafford
tHE POEMS
A WAY THEY HAVE IN THE NAVY
(“A widow gets an allowance; a bereaved mother none; the Government takes the sons and forgets the mothers.” — Miss Weston, “the Bluejacket’s Friend”)
You shout for cash by the million pound,
An’ the ships you’re sharp to build,
There’s “great indocements” ‘anded round,
F’r plices wot must be filled;
The chaps, they lissens to sense an’ — rot,
The worldwide seas they roam,
But they ‘ave some ‘eart — which you ‘ave not,
F’r the pore old soul at ‘ome.
There’s a bit of cash wot’s reg’ler sent,
There’s a scrawl that’s sweet to scn,
F’r its line on line for comfort meant
From Billy or Bob or Dn;
–Till a biler busts, or the ship goes down
(Your ‘nollidge is bought with life),
An’ then — I hav’n't a single “brown”
Bein’ but mother, not wife.
Me lords, they ‘ave a jolly good time,
‘N me lidies knows no need;
The swell is the flow’r of place an’ time,
An’ I’m but a useless weed;
You tikes me lad f’r th’ connin’ tow’r,
F’r the tops, or the turret gun,
An’ when ‘e falls, me luck turns sour–
It’s the ‘Ouse, when me best is done.
Now, the pore young widder, the weepin’ kid,
You spares ‘em a bite of bread,
They’ve a drink o’ tea ‘n’ a ‘addick to grid,
They’ve a glimmer of sun ahead,
But a mother she counts just nothink at all,
A botherin’, wrinkled crone;
She give ‘er boy, at the nation’s call,
An’ now — she may starve, alone.
A WAY THEY HAVE IN THE NAVY
(“A widow gets an allowance; a bereaved mother none; the Government takes the sons and forgets the mothers.” — Miss Weston, “the Bluejacket’s Friend”)
You shout for cash by the million pound,
An’ the ships you’re sharp to build,
There’s “great indocements” ‘anded round,
F’r plices wot must be filled;
The chaps, they lissens to sense an’ — rot,
The worldwide seas they roam,
But they ‘ave some ‘eart — which you ‘ave not,
F’r the pore old soul at ‘ome.
There’s a bit of cash wot’s reg’ler sent,
There’s a scrawl that’s sweet to scn,
F’r its line on line for comfort meant
From Billy or Bob or Dn;
–Till a biler busts, or the ship goes down
(Your ‘nollidge is bought with life),
An’ then — I hav’n't a single “brown”
Bein’ but mother, not wife.
Me lords, they ‘ave a jolly good time,
‘N me lidies knows no need;
The swell is the flow’r of place an’ time,
An’ I’m but a useless weed;
You tikes me lad f’r th’ connin’ tow’r,
F’r the tops, or the turret gun,
An’ when ‘e falls, me luck turns sour–
It’s the ‘Ouse, when me best is done.
Now, the pore young widder, the weepin’ kid,
You spares ‘em a bite of bread,
They’ve a drink o’ tea ‘n’ a ‘addick to grid,
They’ve a glimmer of sun ahead,
But a mother she counts just nothink at all,
A botherin’, wrinkled crone;
She give ‘er boy, at the nation’s call,
An’ now — she may starve, alone.
W.H.H.
The New Gregorian Chant
“School boards have been a great misfortune all over the country; they have lowered the tone of morality and increased the amount of crime.” — Dean of St. Paul’s.
Enter DEAN GREGORY, with chorus of Cabinet Ministers, and, as “corner men,” SIR JOHN GORST (tambourine) and MR. ATHELSTAN RILEY (bones).
DEAN GREGORY:
‘Neath mighty Farmer George’s rule,
When dames and parsons ran the school
That taught a village serf to spell
C-h-u-r-c-h so well
That naught beside his brain could hold –
That was old England’s Age of Gold.
CHORUS — With a Fal-lal-lal-lal-la.
A snake there crept that Eden in
With many ills that horrid bin,
“School-Board” his name; he clanged a bell,
And Grammar came; yea, Knowledge tell
Of “upright” writing and the shame
Algebra brings an honest name.
CHORUS — Eheu! Fal-lal-la.
Then rgged urchins learned to parse,
To far outshine their pa’s and ma’s;
To chatter in a foreign tongue
Or call a lordly brewer “Bung.”
Authority — I mean the Church –
Was left by learning in the lurch.
CHORUS — With a mournful Fal-lal-la.
But, all ye country vicars, shout!
A Balfour wipes that School Board out.
Curates — soup-tickets in each hand
And blankets — of the Oxford brand
Shall well instruct our rising youth
And teach them Church — HIGH Church — is truth.
CHORUS — With a Fal-lal-lal-la.
**********
transcribed by Denny Lien / U of Minnesota Libraries // d-lien@umn.edu
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I will be doing research at the Bodleian library in Oxford in a few weeks. I can look it up then. Their online card catalog says they have it. Drop me an email.
It is pointed out to me by Malcolm Edwards that WHH could be W H Hudson
That is EXTREMELY possible! Can anyone match these titles to any of Hudson’s known works?
Sam,
I’d check the catalogues of national librarie, Hathi Trust, & (also) contacts in the UK (asking them to find a copy); you may also like to try 2ndhand networks online, the Library of Congress (to see if they can find a holding institution) as well. You may also want to start with your local library, at the reference section, and ask either for them to hunt a copy up, or where you should look, and what location and reference aids are available.
Reblogged this on Your Coleridge and commented:
From our friends over at the William Hope Hodgson blog,
a thrilling endeavor to track down an old magazine that might hold
a previously unknown document…