Part 31 (1/2)

I was not correct when I said that the Speaker was the only man who did not laugh. Woodhouse was beside me all the time. His face was set and quite white--as white, they told me, as Sir Thomas Ingell's when he went, by request, to a private interview with his Chief Whip.

THE PRESS

The Soldier may forget his sword The Sailorman the sea, The Mason may forget the Word And the Priest his litany: The maid may forget both jewel and gem, And the bride her wedding-dress-- But the Jew shall forget Jerusalem Ere we forget the Press!

Who once hath stood through the loaded hour Ere, roaring like the gale, The Harrild and the Hoe devour Their league-long paper bale, And has lit his pipe in the morning calm That follows the midnight stress-- He hath sold his heart to the old Black Art We call the daily Press.

Who once hath dealt in the widest game That all of a man can play, No later love, no larger fame Will lure him long away.

As the war-horse smelleth the battle afar, The entered Soul, no less, He saith: 'Ha! Ha!' where the trumpets are And the thunders of the Press.

Canst thou number the days that we fulfil, Or the _Times_ that we bring forth?

Canst thou send the lightnings to do thy will, And cause them reign on earth?

Hast thou given a peac.o.c.k goodly wings To please his foolishness?

Sit down at the heart of men and things, Companion of the Press!

The Pope may launch his Interdict, The Union its decree, But the bubble is blown and the bubble is p.r.i.c.ked By Us and such as We.

Remember the battle and stand aside While Thrones and Powers confess That King over all the children of pride Is the Press--the Press--the Press!

In The Presence

(1912)

'So the matter,' the Regimental Chaplain concluded, 'was correct; in every way correct. I am well pleased with Rutton Singh and Attar Singh.

They have gathered the fruit of their lives.'

He folded his arms and sat down on the verandah. The hot day had ended, and there was a pleasant smell of cooking along the regimental lines, where half-clad men went back and forth with leaf platters and water-goglets. The Subadar-Major, in extreme undress, sat on a chair, as befitted his rank; the Havildar-Major, his nephew, leaning respectfully against the wall. The Regiment was at home and at ease in its own quarters in its own district which takes its name from the great Muhammadan saint Mian Mir, revered by Jehangir and beloved by Guru Har Gobind, sixth of the great Sikh Gurus.

'Quite correct,' the Regimental Chaplain repeated.

No Sikh contradicts his Regimental Chaplain who expounds to him the Holy Book of the Grunth Sahib and who knows the lives and legends of all the Gurus.

The Subadar-Major bowed his grey head. The Havildar-Major coughed respectfully to attract attention and to ask leave to speak. Though he was the Subadar-Major's nephew, and though his father held twice as much land as his uncle, he knew his place in the scheme of things. The Subadar-Major s.h.i.+fted one hand with an iron bracelet on the wrist.

'Was there by any chance any woman at the back of it?' the Havildar-Major murmured. 'I was not here when the thing happened.'

'Yes! Yes! Yes! We all know that thou wast in England eating and drinking with the Sahibs. We are all surprised that thou canst still speak Punjabi.' The Subadar-Major's carefully-tended beard bristled.

'There was no woman,' the Regimental Chaplain growled. 'It was land.

Hear, you! Rutton Singh and Attar Singh were the elder of four brothers.

These four held land in--what was the village's name?--oh, Pishapur, near Thori, in the Ba.n.a.lu Tehsil of Patiala State, where men can still recognise right behaviour when they see it. The two younger brothers tilled the land, while Rutton Singh and Attar Singh took service with the Regiment, according to the custom of the family.'

'True, true,' said the Havildar-Major. 'There is the same arrangement in all good families.'

'Then, listen again,' the Regimental Chaplain went on. 'Their kin on their mother's side put great oppression and injustice upon the two younger brothers who stayed with the land in Patiala State. Their mother's kin loosened beasts into the four brothers' crops when the crops were green; they cut the corn by force when it was ripe; they broke down the water-courses; they defiled the wells; and they brought false charges in the law-courts against all four brothers. They did not spare even the cotton-seed, as the saying is.

'Their mother's kin trusted that the young men would thus be forced by weight of trouble, and further trouble and perpetual trouble, to quit their lands in Pishapur village in Ba.n.a.lu Tehsil in Patiala State. If the young men ran away, the land would come whole to their mother's kin.