A VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCES.

A VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCES.A VICTIM OF CIRCUMSTANCES.

"The audience was divided into two sections; the Smith supporters cheered every blow Wye landed as a point for their man, while Wye's friends were equally enthusiastic on his behalf."—Daily Mail.

With theSmithsupporters behind us, and aSmithreferee, we are prepared to take onCarpentier.

Mother.Mother."Well, darling, do you rememberanythingthe clergyman said?"Barbara."Yes, Mummy, I heard him say, 'half-past-six'!"

Mother."Well, darling, do you rememberanythingthe clergyman said?"

Barbara."Yes, Mummy, I heard him say, 'half-past-six'!"

(Modelled on the Opening Chorus of "Atalanta in Calydon.")

Once in so many calendar spacesPunch, appearing on All Fools' Day,Fills with giggles the hours and graces,Causes the hares of March to stay;And the soft sweet hatters along the StrandRemember the dreams of Wonderland,And the chessboard world and the White King's faces,The hamless commons and all the hay.Come with loud bells and belabouring of bladder,Spirit of Laughter, descend on the townWith tumbling of paint-pails from top of the ladderAnd blowing of tiles from the stockbroker's crown;Bind on thy hosen in motley halvesOver the rondure and curve of thy calves;The night may be mad, but the morn shall be madder—Madder than moonshine and madder than brown.What shall I say to it, how shall I pipe of it,Weave it what strains of ineffable things?O that my Muse were a Muse with a gripe of it,Engined with petrol and wafted by wings!For the sorrows and sighings of winter are done,AndPunchis appearing on April 1,And a savour of daffodils clings to the type of it,And the buttered balm of a crumpet clings.For the merle and the mavis have joined with the "shover"In drowning the day and the night with their din,And all too soon the unwary loverIs walking about in vestures thin;And the "nuts" are buying their shirts of cotton,And, cast into storage cold, forgotten,From delicate necks they were wont to cover,'Possum by 'possum, the stoles come in.And soon is an ending of football rushes,The hold that tackles a travelling heel;And the front of the town with new fire flushes,The paints that follow the paints that peel;And the season comes with its gauds and goldWhen the amorous plaints once more are told,And the polished hoof of her partner crushesThe damsel's shoes in the ballroom reel.AndThe Timesby day andThe Newsby night,Fleeter of foot than the Fleet Street kid,Shall hurry in motor-cars left and rightSaying what Kent and Yorkshire did;And, stout as pillars of marble set,The copper shall capture the suffragette,And screen from peril and heave from sightThe maid pursuing, the Minister hid.The P.C. comes with his mænad haul,Her hatbrim tilted across her eyes;The cricketer dips to the flying ball,His white pants billowing round his thighs;But thou,Charivari, week by weekRemaining (I take it) quite unique,Shalt shake with laughter and pink them allWith points that puncture the vogue that flies.Evoe.

Come with loud bells and belabouring of bladder,Spirit of Laughter, descend on the townWith tumbling of paint-pails from top of the ladderAnd blowing of tiles from the stockbroker's crown;Bind on thy hosen in motley halvesOver the rondure and curve of thy calves;The night may be mad, but the morn shall be madder—Madder than moonshine and madder than brown.

What shall I say to it, how shall I pipe of it,Weave it what strains of ineffable things?O that my Muse were a Muse with a gripe of it,Engined with petrol and wafted by wings!For the sorrows and sighings of winter are done,AndPunchis appearing on April 1,And a savour of daffodils clings to the type of it,And the buttered balm of a crumpet clings.

For the merle and the mavis have joined with the "shover"In drowning the day and the night with their din,And all too soon the unwary loverIs walking about in vestures thin;And the "nuts" are buying their shirts of cotton,And, cast into storage cold, forgotten,From delicate necks they were wont to cover,'Possum by 'possum, the stoles come in.

And soon is an ending of football rushes,The hold that tackles a travelling heel;And the front of the town with new fire flushes,The paints that follow the paints that peel;And the season comes with its gauds and goldWhen the amorous plaints once more are told,And the polished hoof of her partner crushesThe damsel's shoes in the ballroom reel.

AndThe Timesby day andThe Newsby night,Fleeter of foot than the Fleet Street kid,Shall hurry in motor-cars left and rightSaying what Kent and Yorkshire did;And, stout as pillars of marble set,The copper shall capture the suffragette,And screen from peril and heave from sightThe maid pursuing, the Minister hid.

The P.C. comes with his mænad haul,Her hatbrim tilted across her eyes;The cricketer dips to the flying ball,His white pants billowing round his thighs;But thou,Charivari, week by weekRemaining (I take it) quite unique,Shalt shake with laughter and pink them allWith points that puncture the vogue that flies.

Evoe.

Mother."THERE'S MANY A SLIP ..."

[Illustration: AT THE DRESS REHEARSAL OF THE NEW COMIC OPERA, "RESIGNATION" (AS PLAYED TWICE WEEKLY.)

Seelius."I am undone!" [Thrusts sword beneath armpit and expires.

Actor-Manager."Capital! But try, if possible, to make it just aleetlemore convincing."]

(Extracted from the diary of Toby, M.P.)

House of Commons, Monday, March 23.—In arrangement for business of week to-day set apart for discussion of Naval Estimates. That meant a problematically useful, indubitably dull debate. As has been remarked before, it is the unexpected that happens in House of Commons. Since it adjourned on Friday portentous news came from Ireland, indicating something like revolt among officers of the Army stationed there for avowed purpose of backing up civil force in preservation of peace and order. Wholesale resignations reported.

The very existence of the Army seemed at stake. Had mere business, such as the voting of over £50,000,000 for upkeep of Navy, been to the fore, benches would have been half empty. As it was, they were thronged. Over the crowded assembly hurtled that indescribable buzz of excitement that presages eventful action. ThePremierandLeader of Oppositionappearing on the scene were severally greeted with strident cheers from their followers.Prince Arthur, the Dropped Pilot, at urgent entreaty returning to the old ship in time of emergency, enjoyed unique distinction of being cheered by both sides. Demonstration more eloquent than ordered speech.

Mother.AT THE DRESS REHEARSAL OF THE NEW COMIC OPERA, "RESIGNATION"(AS PLAYED TWICE WEEKLY.)Seelius."I am undone!"[Thrusts sword beneath armpit and expires.Actor-Manager."Capital! But try, if possible, to make it just aleetlemore convincing."

Seelius."I am undone!"

[Thrusts sword beneath armpit and expires.

Actor-Manager."Capital! But try, if possible, to make it just aleetlemore convincing."

Questions over,Seelyread studiously prosaic statement of events leading up to resignations on the Curragh. Someone had blundered, or, as theSecretary for War, anxious above all things to avoid irritation, preferred to put it, "there had been a misunderstanding." All over now. Explanations forthcoming had smoothed out difficulty. Resignations tendered had been withdrawn. Familiar military command "As you were" obeyed.

That all very well. Opposition, upon whom crowning mercy had fallen from beneficent heavens, naturally indisposed to treat unexpected boon in niggardly spirit.Bonner Lawinsisted on business being set aside and opportunity provided for rubbing in the salt. Lively debate followed. Speeches delivered with difficulty through running stream of interruption.Byles of Bradfordbegan it. Breaking in uponBonner Law'sspeech with pointed question he was greeted with savage shout of "Sit down" that would have made the rafters ring, supposing there were any. Under existing circumstances the glass ceiling looked down compassionately, whilstByles, after remaining on his legs for what seemed a full minute, resumed his seat.

Amid uproar that raged during succeeding four hours,Speaker, preserving a superb equanimity, rode upon the whirlwind and directed the storm. WhilstPremierwas trying to make himself heard,Helmsleyconstantly interrupted.Speakermade earnest appeal to Members to listen in patience.

"There will," he said, "be plenty of time afterwards for anyone to ask any question or to reply to any point."

Winterton, ever ready to volunteer in the interests of order, asked whetherJohn Ward, seated opposite, had not sinned in same manner asHelmsley.

"That is no reason why the noble lord should imitate him."

"What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander," retortedWinterton. Left House in doubt which was which.

LaterSpeakerdropped down onPage Croft.

"The hon. member," he said, "is not entitled to interrupt because some argument suddenly strikes him."

House laughed at this piquant way of putting it.Sarkrecalls curious fact. 321 years ago the same dictum was framed in almost identical phrase. Essential difference was that it was the Speaker of the day who was rebuked. He wasEdward Coke, whose connection with oneLytteltonis not unfamiliar in Courts of Law. Appearing at bar of House of Lords at opening of eighth Parliament ofElizabeth, which met 19th February, 1593,Speakersubmitted the petition, forthcoming to this day on opening of a new Parliament, asking for privilege of speech.

"Privilege of speech is granted," said theLord Keeperon behalf of theQueen. "But you must know what privilege you have.Not to speak everyone what he listeth, or what cometh into his brain to titter."

Eight o'clock struck before turmoil ceased and House got into Committee on Navy Estimates. In a twinkling over £15,000,000 sterling voted. That nothing to what straightway followed. Getting into Committee on Ways and Means, House voted some £68,000,000 on account of the services of the year.

After this, House was counted out. In imitation of proverbial character of current month, having come in as a lion it went out like a lamb.

Business done.—Tumultuous debate on Ulster side-issue. Huge sums voted in Committee of Supply.

Tuesday.—Renewal of yesterday's excitement round action of certain officers of the Army in Ireland.Seelypromised to circulate in the morning all papers relating thereto. To members of county councils, parish councils, and the like obscure consultative bodies, it would seem reasonable to wait opportunity for studying papers before debating their contents. We have a better way at Westminster. Business set down was the Army Vote.Seelyexplained that for financial reasons it was absolutely necessary money should be voted. Necessity admitted, this wasdone. But not till four hours had been occupied in inflaming talk. As for the vote for many millions, no time was left to talk about it. Accordingly agreed to without comment or criticism.

Amerystruck note of Opposition criticism on Curragh affair by describing "how meanly theSecretary of State for Warsneaked out of the position into which he so proudly strutted a few days ago." More of same genial kind of talk from benches near. But as debate went forward Members evidently became possessed of growing sense of gravity of situation.

It was the Labour Members who effected the change. For first time in life of present Parliament they with united front took the lead at a grave national crisis, representing without bluster the vastness of the social and political force behind them.John Wardin weighty speech brought down the real question from nights of personal animosity and party rancour. It was "whether the discipline of the Army is to be maintained; whether it is to continue to be a neutral force to assist the civil power; or whether in future the House of Commons, representing the people, is to submit its decisions for approval to a military junta.".

Warned party opposite that, the latter principle adopted, there will be no picking and choosing. The private soldier has his conscience as well as the commissioned officer. In cases of industrial dispute Tommy Atkins would find in speeches made to-day by noble Lords and hon. Members justification for refusal to shoot down members of his own class with whose position he had conscientious sympathy.

J. H. Thomas, Organising Secretary of Amalgamated Society of Railway Servants, put this in briefer phrasing when he said, "GeneralGoughmay feel keenly the Ulster situation. Tommy Atkins will feel not less keenly the industrial situation." House listened in significant silence to illustration pointing the moral. In November next four hundred thousand railway men will come to grips with their employers. If they do not obtain satisfactory terms they may simultaneously strike.

"If," their Secretary added, "the doctrine laid down by the Opposition in respect to Ulster is sound it will be my duty to tell the railwaymen to prepare for the worst by organizing their forces, the half million capital possessed by the union to be used to provide arms and ammunition for them."

Business done.—Ominous debate arising on Ulster question. Army Votes rushed through without discussion.

Wednesday.—Sudden dramatic change in strained situation. Turned out thatSeely'sguarantee to GeneralGough, accepted as satisfactory and followed by withdrawal of that officer's resignation, had not been fully brought to knowledge of the Cabinet. Learning of its concluding paragraphs only when yesterday he read type-written, copy of White Paper published this morning,Premiersent forSecretary for Warand repudiated them.Seely, acknowledging his error, tendered his resignation.Premierdeclined to accept it. In view of all the circumstances he "thought it would be not only ungenerous but unjust to take such action."

This strange story, told in two chapters, the first contributed byWar Secretary, the second by thePremier, listened to with strained attention by crowded House. There followed debate whose stormy course occasionally rose to heights exceeding those scaled on two preceding days.

Only once was there manifestation of general hearty assent. Forthcoming when thePremierwarmly protested against "unfair and inconsiderate attempts, not made on one side only, to drag into the discussion the name of theKing."

"His Majesty," he added, amid burst of general cheering, "has from first to last observed every rule that comports with the dignity of the position of a constitutional sovereign."

Business done.—Second Reading of Consolidated Fund Bill, on which debate arose, carried by 314 against 222. Majority, 92.

Mother.Suggested design for car which, by a simple arrangement op mirrors, enables the super-nut to drive in the special super-nutty position.

Suggested design for car which, by a simple arrangement op mirrors, enables the super-nut to drive in the special super-nutty position.

There was once a schoolboy who was caught fishing in forbidden waters. He knew that the penalty was a switching (old style), and his contemporaries were pleased to remind him of the fact. Five o'clock was the hour fixed for the interview. The boy was small for his age, but brainy. All day he studied how he might save his skin and disappoint his friends, and at 4.30 he repaired stealthily to his dormitory to make his plans. They consisted of a sheet of brown paper—all that remained, alas, of a home-made cake—two copies ofThe Scoutand a chest protector, which had been included in his outfit by a solicitious parent. By means of the fatal fishing line he attached the combined padding to his person, then, stiffly resuming his garments, knocked at the dread portal as the clock struck.

The Head glanced down over his spectacles. The boy stood strangely erect, and his face was brave though pale. A cane lay on the table. The master's eye was sterner than his heart. His hand reached for the cane, but he replaced it in a drawer, and for twenty minutes the listeners in the corridor vainly pricked their ears for the accustomed sounds.

"Well?" they inquired anxiously when the victim reappeared.

"He only jawed me," replied the small boy; and he wept.

An "agony" inThe Daily Graphic:

"Maud darling, did you see my last massage?... Ada."

No,Ada, but she heard about it. Stick to it and you'll soon be down to twelve-stone-five again.

"In the Italian Chamber, on the 12th instant, there was only a majority of Bill. It is believed that the Giolitti Cabinet is tottering.—Ostasiatischer Lloyd."North China Herald.

"In the Italian Chamber, on the 12th instant, there was only a majority of Bill. It is believed that the Giolitti Cabinet is tottering.—Ostasiatischer Lloyd."

North China Herald.

Gulielmo's casting vote cannot save them every time.

"On his motor-trip he never met any cat travelling either without lights after dusk or on the wrong side of the road."Ceylon Observer.

"On his motor-trip he never met any cat travelling either without lights after dusk or on the wrong side of the road."

Ceylon Observer.

Our dogs may well learn a lesson from this.

"The bride carried a large bouquet of Harum lilies."—South Staffordshire Times.

This sort has two stalks, of course.

Mother.Mistress."Why have you put two hot-water bottles in my bed, Bridget?"Bridget."Sure, Mem, wan of thim was leaking, and I didn't know which, so I put both in to make sure."

Mistress."Why have you put two hot-water bottles in my bed, Bridget?"

Bridget."Sure, Mem, wan of thim was leaking, and I didn't know which, so I put both in to make sure."

Jones is a man who is too topsy-turvy;Nothing is quite as it should be with Jones,Angular just where he ought to be curvy,Padded with flesh where he ought to have bones.Jones is a freak who attends to the labours,Small and domestic, that make up the home:Pays all the calls and leaves cards on the neighbours,Leaving his wife to be lazy at home.Does up her dresses without saying, "Blow it";Pays and forgets to say "Bother" or "Biff";Asks her to scatter the money and go it,Beams at her bills when the totals are stiff.As for his daughters, he gives them their chances,Rushes them round to reception and fête;Takes them himself to their concerts and dances;Always looks pleased when they want to stay late.Then he has meals which would make you grow thinner,Often absorbing with infinite gleeSponge-cakes at breakfast and crumpets at dinner,Whitstable oysters at five o'clock tea.Next he loves laughter: that is, to be laughed at—Every way's right for the man to be rubbed;Grins when he's sneered at and jeered at and chaffed at;Wriggles with pleasure whenever he's snubbed.Fiction, in short, in a million disguisesNever created a crankier clod,More unaccountably made of surprises,More topsy-turvily fashioned and odd.

Jones is a man who is too topsy-turvy;Nothing is quite as it should be with Jones,Angular just where he ought to be curvy,Padded with flesh where he ought to have bones.

Jones is a freak who attends to the labours,Small and domestic, that make up the home:Pays all the calls and leaves cards on the neighbours,Leaving his wife to be lazy at home.

Does up her dresses without saying, "Blow it";Pays and forgets to say "Bother" or "Biff";Asks her to scatter the money and go it,Beams at her bills when the totals are stiff.

As for his daughters, he gives them their chances,Rushes them round to reception and fête;Takes them himself to their concerts and dances;Always looks pleased when they want to stay late.

Then he has meals which would make you grow thinner,Often absorbing with infinite gleeSponge-cakes at breakfast and crumpets at dinner,Whitstable oysters at five o'clock tea.

Next he loves laughter: that is, to be laughed at—Every way's right for the man to be rubbed;Grins when he's sneered at and jeered at and chaffed at;Wriggles with pleasure whenever he's snubbed.

Fiction, in short, in a million disguisesNever created a crankier clod,More unaccountably made of surprises,More topsy-turvily fashioned and odd.

(In accordance with the current announcements of the leading West-End houses, and with no reference to Anglo-Russian diplomacy.)

Carpets of Persia fashioned on Orient looms—Webs which the craftsman's hand with a patient cunningWrought through the perfect marriage of warp and woof—Such as were laid, I imagine, in Bahram's roomsWhere (since their removal) the lion and lizard lie sunning,And the ass, according toOmar, stamps his hoof—Are selling off cheap, it is stated, for money down:Oh, have you a remnant of Persia for half-a-crown?Carpets of Persia! (None of your home-made stuffs!)After long years on the loom and infinite labour,Piled in bales on piratical Arab dhowsAt Bunder Abbas, and brought by a crew of roughs(Each looking more of a cut-throat rip than his neighbour)Down Ormuz Strait through a series of storms and rows—Surely they ought to be bargains in London Town?Oh, have you a remnant of Persia for half-a-crown?Carpets of Persia! Though not, perhaps, one of the best,Like those which adorn the Victoria and Albert Museum,Yet, since you assert that you're selling authentic antiques,I'd like to have one which the foot of a Caliph has pressed,Or one where the wives of a Wazir (I fancy I see 'em)Were wont to recline, curled up in their shimmering breeks,Or one whereon foreheads were rubbed before mightyHaroun—Oh, have you a remnant of Persia for half-a-crown?

Carpets of Persia! (None of your home-made stuffs!)After long years on the loom and infinite labour,Piled in bales on piratical Arab dhowsAt Bunder Abbas, and brought by a crew of roughs(Each looking more of a cut-throat rip than his neighbour)Down Ormuz Strait through a series of storms and rows—Surely they ought to be bargains in London Town?Oh, have you a remnant of Persia for half-a-crown?

Carpets of Persia! Though not, perhaps, one of the best,Like those which adorn the Victoria and Albert Museum,Yet, since you assert that you're selling authentic antiques,I'd like to have one which the foot of a Caliph has pressed,Or one where the wives of a Wazir (I fancy I see 'em)Were wont to recline, curled up in their shimmering breeks,Or one whereon foreheads were rubbed before mightyHaroun—Oh, have you a remnant of Persia for half-a-crown?

Sir,—It has been brought to my notice that at a meeting you addressed recently in your constituency you referred to me, and in the course of your remarks you said that I had employed in the House of Commons the "blustering artifice of the rhetorical hireling." May I ask you for your authority for this statement? I can only hope that your reply will avoid any ambiguity, and for your further enlightenment I may inform you that I am annoyed.I am sure I am acting as you would wish me to do in sending a copy of this letter to the Press.Yours faithfully,N. Y. Z Thomson-Thomson.A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke, Esq.

I am sure I am acting as you would wish me to do in sending a copy of this letter to the Press.

Yours faithfully,N. Y. Z Thomson-Thomson.

A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke, Esq.

Sir,—How like you to read an inaccurate report of my speech! The words I used—you will find them reported inThe Wastepaper Gazettefor that week—were as follows: "We must then take these statements of Mr. Thomson-Thomson to be nothing but the blustering artifice ofarhetorical hireling." You will, I am sure, appreciate the difference between the two versions. If you do not, I may add that I am prepared to endorse the opinion expressed in the accurate version and to raise the question in the House of Commons at an early opportunity.I am sending a copy, of this letter to the Press, as your reply will doubtless be irrelevant.Yours faithfully,A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke.N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson, Esq.

I am sending a copy, of this letter to the Press, as your reply will doubtless be irrelevant.

Yours faithfully,A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke.

N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson, Esq.

Sir,—I have perused several reports of your speech, and with one exception they all agree that the word "the" was used and not the word "a."The Wastepaper Gazette, with which I think you are identified, is the only one which has printed your version of the speech, and I must therefore decline to accept your statement. Of course had the indefinite article been used it would have destroyed any ground for complaint. As you are attempting to evade the serious issue between us I can only conclude that your methods indicate the "blustering artifice of the rhetorical hireling." Unless I hear from you to the contrary I shall always maintain this view.I have sent a copy of this letter to the Press.Yours truly,N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson.A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke, Esq.

I have sent a copy of this letter to the Press.

Yours truly,N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson.

A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke, Esq.

Sir,—My Secretary was much pained at your last letter. He has informed me of its contents. I can only say that I am surprised that a statesman of your undoubted ability should exhibit such peculiar controversial methods.The circumstances are not new. In 1911, in the House of Commons, I find that I formulated the same opinion of you in substantially the same words, yet no objection was then raised by you nor could any objection have been so raised.Since your election your attitude on every question has been deplorable, and although I am of the opposite party I may say that in this view I am in no sense actuated by party feeling. This is a matter too serious for the bitterness of partisanship.I repeat that in my opinion you have frequently employed the blustering artifice of a rhetorical hireling.Unless I hear from you within half-an-hour I shall send a copy of this letter to the Press.Yours faithfully,A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke.P.S.—Could you oblige me by letting me know who was the originator of the phrase?N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson, Esq.

The circumstances are not new. In 1911, in the House of Commons, I find that I formulated the same opinion of you in substantially the same words, yet no objection was then raised by you nor could any objection have been so raised.

Since your election your attitude on every question has been deplorable, and although I am of the opposite party I may say that in this view I am in no sense actuated by party feeling. This is a matter too serious for the bitterness of partisanship.

I repeat that in my opinion you have frequently employed the blustering artifice of a rhetorical hireling.

Unless I hear from you within half-an-hour I shall send a copy of this letter to the Press.

Yours faithfully,A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke.

P.S.—Could you oblige me by letting me know who was the originator of the phrase?

N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson, Esq.

Sir,—You have totally failed to substantiate the serious charges you made against me, and I am sorry, for the sweetness of political life, that you have not had the courage or the fairness to withdraw them.I am glad that we have been able to conduct this correspondence on the courteous lines which have ever characterised our public careers.I have sent a copy of this letter to the Press.Yours faithfully,N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson.P.S.—I do not know who was the author of the phrase. But I knewyoucouldn't be.A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke, Esq.

I am glad that we have been able to conduct this correspondence on the courteous lines which have ever characterised our public careers.

I have sent a copy of this letter to the Press.

Yours faithfully,N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson.

P.S.—I do not know who was the author of the phrase. But I knewyoucouldn't be.

A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke, Esq.

Sir,—I have nothing to add to my last letter.Yours truly,A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke.P.S.—I purpose sending a copy of this letter to the Press.N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson, Esq.

Sir,—I have nothing to add to my last letter.

Yours truly,A. B. C. Wentworth-Coke.

P.S.—I purpose sending a copy of this letter to the Press.

N. Y. Z. Thomson-Thomson, Esq.

Some idea of last week's Parliamentary crisis may be gathered from the following poster:—

Cabinetsends forFrench

Our neighbours across the water were too busy with their own troubles to respond. Much better have sent for Germans. Their arrival might have pulled us together.

(Spring Thoughts by One In Trade.)

When the new Spring is drawing nearThere always rises in my bloodA keen desire to see the yearFresh opening in the bud.From my tame task to wander free;For one brief day to get me goneTo some sweet rural spot, and seeHow things are getting on.So, when a rising glass invites,Off by the ready train I fare;How sweet are all the country sights,How fresh the country air!Here every prospect has its charm;On every side I find a spell;There is a pleasure in a farm,And (almost) in the smell.'Tis sweet to see the pretty lambs,To mark them as they frisk and jump,Or nestle round their anxious dams,So placid and so plump.I hear the lark's ecstatic gushFrom his clear ambush in the sky;A blackbird (if it's not a thrush)Sings from a wood hard by.I climb towards an open leaWhereon the goodly cattle browse,And oh, it does me good to seeSuch oxen and such cows.And here and there an early calfStaggers about with weakling frame;It is a sight that makes me laugh;I feel so glad I came.The orchard with its early pink(Cherry, I'm told) adorns the scene;While the horse-chestnut (as I think)Is well-nigh turning green.So through the day I roam apart,And bless the happy dawn of Spring,Which thrills a butcher's homely heartWith such sweet visiting.But soon the light begins to fade,And I must quit these rural joysTo labour at my daily tradeMid London's dust and noise.Back to the buses and the trams,To think on Spring's recurring boon,Especially the calves and lambs:They will be ready soon.Dum-Dum.

When the new Spring is drawing nearThere always rises in my bloodA keen desire to see the yearFresh opening in the bud.

From my tame task to wander free;For one brief day to get me goneTo some sweet rural spot, and seeHow things are getting on.

So, when a rising glass invites,Off by the ready train I fare;How sweet are all the country sights,How fresh the country air!

Here every prospect has its charm;On every side I find a spell;There is a pleasure in a farm,And (almost) in the smell.

'Tis sweet to see the pretty lambs,To mark them as they frisk and jump,Or nestle round their anxious dams,So placid and so plump.

I hear the lark's ecstatic gushFrom his clear ambush in the sky;A blackbird (if it's not a thrush)Sings from a wood hard by.

I climb towards an open leaWhereon the goodly cattle browse,And oh, it does me good to seeSuch oxen and such cows.

And here and there an early calfStaggers about with weakling frame;It is a sight that makes me laugh;I feel so glad I came.

The orchard with its early pink(Cherry, I'm told) adorns the scene;While the horse-chestnut (as I think)Is well-nigh turning green.

So through the day I roam apart,And bless the happy dawn of Spring,Which thrills a butcher's homely heartWith such sweet visiting.

But soon the light begins to fade,And I must quit these rural joysTo labour at my daily tradeMid London's dust and noise.

Back to the buses and the trams,To think on Spring's recurring boon,Especially the calves and lambs:They will be ready soon.

Dum-Dum.

"Carpentier was getting to be a sorry sight at the finish. There was hardly anything to indicate that Jeannette had been in a 15-round glove-fight."—Times."All this Carpentier stood well, and quick as lightning at long range cut the mulatto's face to bits."—Morning Post.

"Carpentier was getting to be a sorry sight at the finish. There was hardly anything to indicate that Jeannette had been in a 15-round glove-fight."—Times.

"All this Carpentier stood well, and quick as lightning at long range cut the mulatto's face to bits."—Morning Post.

We think our contemporaries are carrying their rivalry with each other too far.

Why not haveControllers of Convivialityto check over-indulgence in eating.View larger imageAnd drinking?.View larger image

Why not haveControllers of Convivialityto check over-indulgence in eating.View larger image

Why not haveControllers of Convivialityto check over-indulgence in eating.

And drinking?.View larger image

And drinking?.

orWardens of Reputationsto suppress scandalView larger imageand tittle-tattle?.View larger image

orWardens of Reputationsto suppress scandalView larger image

orWardens of Reputationsto suppress scandal

and tittle-tattle?.View larger image

and tittle-tattle?.

orCensors of Phraseologyto restrain bad language?View larger imageBut best of all, makeeverybodyanInspector of Officials, sothat the great British Public canget a little of its own back..View larger image

orCensors of Phraseologyto restrain bad language?View larger image

orCensors of Phraseologyto restrain bad language?

But best of all, makeeverybodyanInspector of Officials, sothat the great British Public canget a little of its own back..View larger image

But best of all, makeeverybodyanInspector of Officials, sothat the great British Public canget a little of its own back..

Arrangements have now been completed for holding at the Piscicultural Hall, Kensington, an exhibition, the aim of which is to impart instruction in the art of living in the country. Such assistance is of the highest value, since many persons otherwise capable enough are unable to manage rural ways at once or deal with even such ordinary difficulties as neighbours' visits, invitations to garden parties, dinners, &c., political confessions, the retention of servants, the lighting system, the Vicar's calls, and so forth.

On this most difficult problem lectures will be given by a practised chatelaine. Various different makes of gramophones will be on view, with a list of tunes most acceptable to the servants'-hall. The maximum possible distance of the house from the nearest picture palace has been worked out from illuminating statistics. Useful hints about followers may also be gathered here.

Not every one in the country goes to church, but none can escape acquaintance with the Vicar. Hints as to how to deal with him are freely offered, and a variety of excuses for non-attendance have been drawn, ranging from a headache to Quakerism. Also what to say when the Vicar meets you on Sunday morning with your clubs. A list of minimum subscriptions to all conceivable charities is on sale.

For country householders who are at present burning oil, but think they would like an illuminant made of petrol or acetylene, a lecture will be given by an expert, who will examine all the myriad plants on the market and offer his opinion as to the least unsatisfactory. Diagrams of gardeners' burns and other injuries in a failure to master the intricacies of the engine are a popular feature. Also phonograph records of what certain gardeners have said, in various dialects, when told to tackle the new light.

Everything necessary to the successful management of a country inn is on view here. Among the exhibits are a cup of coffee as prepared from coffee and a cup of coffee as served in a typical inn. By studying the two the inn-keeper may learn what is expected of him, and how to avoid the mistake of serving coffee in which any flavour of coffee persists.

Here the settler in the country is on very delicate ground and in need of all his tact. As the exhibition lecturer will point out, he must, before avowing his own political creed, ascertain that of his landlord—particularly so if he has only a yearly tenancy. The chances are that the landlord is a Conservative. If the tenant is Conservative too, all is well; if the contrary—but we had better leave the details to the lecturer.

A well-known horticulturist has invented a system by which the names of flowers can be taught in the shortest possible time, especially as the flowers have been carefully selected to exclude all but the fashionable. After only two lessons the pupil is in a position to lead a visitor through the garden and casually and accurately enumerate every delphinium and climbing rose in it. Suitable adjectives to apply to flowers are also provided.

Models of the two chief different types of country house—those which the dogs may enter as they will, and those from which the dogs are excluded—are on view.

A lecturer who knows every inch of the country within a forty-mile radius of London will discourse at intervals on the respective merits of each popular district. A list of the principal residents in each will be available, together with a computation of the chances of a newcomer being called on by any ladies with a title. In order to make this department really efficient the intending new resident must of course give true particulars as to his or her social history. Districts where new residents who have been in trade, always excepting wine and the motor industry, are not called on, are carefully marked on a special Social map.

A map of England, coloured to show where the tariff is 8d.a mile, 9d.a mile, 10d.a mile, and 1s.a mile, has been prepared.

A careful examination of the railways out of London has been made, with full particulars as to the speed of their trains, punctuality, cleanliness, warmth, week-end tickets and so forth. Also hints for doing the company by old hands. Also character sketches of the station-masters at all likely stations.

In order that accidents due to falling airmen may be guarded against, a map has been designed for sale in the hall, showing those parts of the country over which flights are most common.

Little Wun-lee's father, Nang-Poo,Let her do just what she wanted to do;Made her processions with peacocky bannersIn the most regal and lavish of manners.Little Wun-lee's father, Nang-Poo,Was a magician who lived at Foo-choo.Now if you possess a magician of cunningNothing you want should be out of the running.Little Wun-lee had all sorts of things—Fly-away carpets and vanishing-rings,Djinn as her footmen, and gem-spraying fountains,And lovely snow-leopards from ghost-haunted mountains.Little Wun-lee, combing her hair,Saw a blue butterfly float through the air—Saw a blue butterfly flicker and settleOn an azalea's rosy pink petal.Little Wun-lee said: "By theMings,Thatfor your fly-away carpets and rings!Peacocks and palanquins? Powers and dominions?I'll have a pair of blue butterfly's pinions!""Little Wun-lee," answered Nang Poo,"That's the one trick no magician can do;Never did wizard of land, air or waterMagic blue wings on a little white daughter."Little Wun-lee, dainty and dear,Cried for a day and a week and a year—Cried till she died of a Thwarted Ambition,And nobody cared but Nang-Poo, the magician.Little Wun-lee, little Wun-lee,He buried her 'neath the azalea tree;And the burnished blue butterflies flicker and hover,And the rosy pink petals fall lightly above her.

Little Wun-lee's father, Nang-Poo,Let her do just what she wanted to do;Made her processions with peacocky bannersIn the most regal and lavish of manners.

Little Wun-lee's father, Nang-Poo,Was a magician who lived at Foo-choo.Now if you possess a magician of cunningNothing you want should be out of the running.

Little Wun-lee had all sorts of things—Fly-away carpets and vanishing-rings,Djinn as her footmen, and gem-spraying fountains,And lovely snow-leopards from ghost-haunted mountains.

Little Wun-lee, combing her hair,Saw a blue butterfly float through the air—Saw a blue butterfly flicker and settleOn an azalea's rosy pink petal.

Little Wun-lee said: "By theMings,Thatfor your fly-away carpets and rings!Peacocks and palanquins? Powers and dominions?I'll have a pair of blue butterfly's pinions!"

"Little Wun-lee," answered Nang Poo,"That's the one trick no magician can do;Never did wizard of land, air or waterMagic blue wings on a little white daughter."

Little Wun-lee, dainty and dear,Cried for a day and a week and a year—Cried till she died of a Thwarted Ambition,And nobody cared but Nang-Poo, the magician.

Little Wun-lee, little Wun-lee,He buried her 'neath the azalea tree;And the burnished blue butterflies flicker and hover,And the rosy pink petals fall lightly above her.

A Bloodthirsty Critic.

The NationonSaint Augustin, byLouis Bertrand:

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