ANNABEL LEE.

A NEW CRAZE.A NEW CRAZE."What a tragic face you have, Miss Pootle.""Yes, You See, Iadoremisery."

"What a tragic face you have, Miss Pootle."

"Yes, You See, Iadoremisery."

Notice outside a station of the Wirral Railway Co.:—

"Loiterers on the Company's premises or annoying passengers will be prosecuted."

The passenger who annoys us most and seems worthiest of prosecution is the fifth on our side of the carriage.

Up and down on the fresh-ploughed levels,All for the sake of their lady fair,Two cock-partridges fought like devils,Hammer-and-tongs and a hop in the air;And I and "Basket" Annabel Lee—Elderly tinking gyp is she—We leaned on the paling and watched it go;And "Eh," said she, "now a fight 'tis cruel,But of all the compliments 'tis the jewel!May I die to-day, but I know, I knowThere's naught as a young maid's 'eart takes betterThan a couple o' big chaps out to get herThrough a dozen o' dustin' rounds or so."Bet my bonnet it strikes you funny,Seein' I'm risin' seventy-three,To think o' me once as sweet as honey;Lor' how their fists went 'long o' me!Jake Poltevo and Pembroke Bill,I saw 'em then, and I sees 'em still,Eh, how their fists went—thud! crack! thud!None o' your booze-house scraps, Lor' love 'em;Turf to their feet and the sky above 'em—Stripped, bare-knuckle and mucked wi' blood;Queer thing, ain't it, I still thinks pleasureIn the strength o' a man, bein' old, by measure,And plain, you'd say, as a pint o' mud?"Scared me fine at the time, though; weepin'I 'id my face in the 'azels low;Tip-toe soon I was back a-peepin',Couldn't 'a' helped were it never so;Each as good as the other chap—Bad old woman I be, may'ap;But eh, I loved 'em, the fine young men.Marry a one of 'em? Why no, never;They wasn't a-marryin' me whatever;But I likes to think of 'em now and then;For, of all the compliments,thatwas candy,And—ain't them dicky-birds at it dandy?I knows the pride o' their pretty 'en!Eh, but I loved 'em, me fine young men!"

"Bet my bonnet it strikes you funny,Seein' I'm risin' seventy-three,To think o' me once as sweet as honey;Lor' how their fists went 'long o' me!Jake Poltevo and Pembroke Bill,I saw 'em then, and I sees 'em still,Eh, how their fists went—thud! crack! thud!None o' your booze-house scraps, Lor' love 'em;Turf to their feet and the sky above 'em—Stripped, bare-knuckle and mucked wi' blood;Queer thing, ain't it, I still thinks pleasureIn the strength o' a man, bein' old, by measure,And plain, you'd say, as a pint o' mud?

"Scared me fine at the time, though; weepin'I 'id my face in the 'azels low;Tip-toe soon I was back a-peepin',Couldn't 'a' helped were it never so;Each as good as the other chap—Bad old woman I be, may'ap;But eh, I loved 'em, the fine young men.Marry a one of 'em? Why no, never;They wasn't a-marryin' me whatever;But I likes to think of 'em now and then;For, of all the compliments,thatwas candy,And—ain't them dicky-birds at it dandy?I knows the pride o' their pretty 'en!Eh, but I loved 'em, me fine young men!"

FROM FIFE TO HARP.FROM FIFE TO HARP.Mr. Asquith."ONE MORE BONNIE TOOTLE, AND THEN BACK TO THAT DREARY OLD HARP."

Mr. Asquith."ONE MORE BONNIE TOOTLE, AND THEN BACK TO THAT DREARY OLD HARP."

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

A FORETASTE OF HOME RULE HARMONYA FORETASTE OF HOME RULE HARMONY"Mr. Devlin here interposed with a remark which was not heard in the gallery, and Mr. W. O'Brien, turning round to where the hon. member was sitting, called out in an angry tone something which was not clearly heard."—"Times'" Report.

"Mr. Devlin here interposed with a remark which was not heard in the gallery, and Mr. W. O'Brien, turning round to where the hon. member was sitting, called out in an angry tone something which was not clearly heard."—"Times'" Report.

House of Commons, Monday, April 6.—At third time of asking Home Rule Bill read a second time. Odd feature, in curious sitting that hotly contested measure passed crucial stage without a division. House divided onWalter Long'samendment for its rejection. When thereuponSpeakerput the question that "the Bill be now read a second time" there was none to say him nay. Some folk of hopeful habit see in this incident a forecast of the end.

Debate unexpectedly decorous, not to say decidedly dull.Tim Healydid something to lift it out of rut. But he was more concerned to belabourJohn Redmondand to digDevlinin the ribs than to argue merits of measure. Taunted his much-loved fellow-patriot and countryman with facing both ways on question of exclusion of Ulster.Attorney-Generaldeclared thatPremier'soffer of exclusion for period of six years was still open.Redmond, believing it was dead, had,Timsaid, prepared its coffin, "and now theAttorney-Generalcomes along and forces fresh oxygen into the corpse."

As forDevlin, he was introduced accidentally at end of harangue. Had interposed comment inaudible to main body of House, but safely assumed not to be complimentary.William O'Brienturned round with angry retort.

"There is," musedTim, "one gentleman from whom on historical grounds I had expected firmness in regard to Ulster. It is the gentleman who has just interrupted me, and the grounds of expectation are that in ancient time downward from the flight of the earls theDevlinswere the hereditary horse-boys of theO'Neills."

Remark perhaps scarcely relevant to Home Rule Bill or motion for its Second Reading. But it soothedTimand didn't hurtDevlin.

Birrellhaving made cheery speech on situation generally,Petorose with amiable intention of continuing debate. House had had enough of it. Persistently cried aloud for division. Amid hubbubPetoshouted dissatisfaction at top of his voice. Unequal contest maintained for only a few minutes, whenMcKennain charge of business of House during absence of his elders nipped in with motion for Closure.

This carried,Long'samendment negatived by 356 votes against 276. Majority for Government, 80. Motion for Second Reading unchallenged; amid prolonged cheering from Ministerialists and Irish Nationalists Bill read a second time.

If only SirIf only SirEdward Carsonbelonged to some other oppressed nationality—Armenia, for instance!

If only SirEdward Carsonbelonged to some other oppressed nationality—Armenia, for instance!

Business done.—For third time in course of three successive sessions Home Rule Bill passes Second Reading stage.

Tuesday.—Browning, longing to be in England "now that April's there," would have been disappointed had it been possible for him to turn up to-day. So dark and dank that at three o'clock, when Questions opened, electric light was turned on. Revealed dreary array of half-empty benches. Had Closure been promptly moved a count out inevitable.

As in time of war the cutting off of superior officers brings comparatively young ones to chief command,McKenna(in the absence ofPremier,Chancellor of Exchequer, andForeign Secretary) sits in the seat of the mighty in charge of Government business. Fills the part excellently. Ten days agoSpeakercheered House by announcement that there should be no more Supplementary Questions. Welcome resolution either forgotten or deliberately ignored. Supplementary Questions, almost exclusively argumentative, assertive, or personally offensive, buzzed about Treasury bench like bees at mouth of hive.Home Secretary, alert, self-possessed, deftly parried attack.

While Questions on printed paper were being duly picked up, put and answered, midway in melancholy proceeding there entered Distinguished Strangers' Gallery a small group of gorgeously clad princes from the storied East. They surveyed the scene with keen interest. In their far-off home they had read and talked of the House of Commons, the central controlling force of wide-spread Empire, whereof their possessions were as a bit of fringe. They had travelled far to look upon it. And here in this comparatively small chamber, scantily peopled, they beheld it.

Is this the face that launched a thousand shipsAnd stormed the topmost towers of Ilium?

Fortunately for reputation of the HouseRowland Huntchanced to be to the fore. The other day, burning with patriotism, he issued a circular letter addressed to non-commissioned officers of the Army, advising them how to act in certain contingencies relating to Ulster. It happens that oneCrowsleyhad previously circulated amongst soldiers at Aldershot a handbill urging the men to disobey orders when on duty. He was prosecuted for inciting to mutiny,convicted and sentenced. Members in Radical stronghold below Gangway want to know wherein the two cases differ, and why, ifCrowsleyis in gaol, the Member for South Shropshire should go free?

Attorney-General, to whom questions were addressed, diplomatically discriminated. Came to conclusion not to employ services ofPublic Prosecutor. SoRowland Huntremains with us.

Business done.—A couple of small Government Bills advanced a stage. House talked out at eleven o'clock.

Wednesday.—Adjournment for brief Easter Holiday. Back on Tuesday.

Edward GreySirEdward Grey(in Sutherlandshire on the day of the final debate on the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill). "Ireland? Ireland? Where have I heard that name?"

SirEdward Grey(in Sutherlandshire on the day of the final debate on the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill). "Ireland? Ireland? Where have I heard that name?"

Murdoch McWhannel, 3, Poynings Avenue, Glasgow, N.W.,toMessrs. Fairley and Willing, house-factors there.January 3, 191-.I have been seriously annoyed for some weeks now by a noisy chimney-cowl on your property at 15, Poynings Road. It is on the stack of chimneys at the rear of your property, and within about fifty yards of the back windows of this house. During the recent high winds the cowl has kept up a continual shrieking, day and night, which has been extremely destructive to "Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." I trust that you will be so good as to have the cowl overhauled, and this cause of disturbance removed.

Murdoch McWhannel, 3, Poynings Avenue, Glasgow, N.W.,toMessrs. Fairley and Willing, house-factors there.

January 3, 191-.

I have been seriously annoyed for some weeks now by a noisy chimney-cowl on your property at 15, Poynings Road. It is on the stack of chimneys at the rear of your property, and within about fifty yards of the back windows of this house. During the recent high winds the cowl has kept up a continual shrieking, day and night, which has been extremely destructive to "Nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." I trust that you will be so good as to have the cowl overhauled, and this cause of disturbance removed.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.January 6, 191-.Reyour letter of 3rd curt., the chimney cowl at 15, Poynings Road shall have our immediate attention.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.

January 6, 191-.

Reyour letter of 3rd curt., the chimney cowl at 15, Poynings Road shall have our immediate attention.

Murdoch McWhanneltoMessrs. Fairley and Willing.January 7, 191-.I have to thank you for your prompt and courteous reply to my letter of 3rd January, and am glad to know that the noisy cowl will have your immediate attention.

Murdoch McWhanneltoMessrs. Fairley and Willing.

January 7, 191-.

I have to thank you for your prompt and courteous reply to my letter of 3rd January, and am glad to know that the noisy cowl will have your immediate attention.

The Sametothe Same.January 14, 191-.May I remind you that in your letter of 6th January you were good enough to promise that the noisy cowl at 15, Poynings Road would have your immediate attention? Of course I know that it is difficult to get tradesmen to work so soon after the New Year holidays, but they should now be available, and the cowl is having a very serious effect on the health and nerves of the residents here.

The Sametothe Same.

January 14, 191-.

May I remind you that in your letter of 6th January you were good enough to promise that the noisy cowl at 15, Poynings Road would have your immediate attention? Of course I know that it is difficult to get tradesmen to work so soon after the New Year holidays, but they should now be available, and the cowl is having a very serious effect on the health and nerves of the residents here.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.January 17, 191-.Rechimney cowl at 15, Poynings Road and your letter of 14th curt., we are surprised to receive same. We sent out a tradesman on January 11, who reported same date that he had oiled and adjusted the cowl, and that it would give no further trouble. If you are still troubled, some other cowl must be causing it now. We understand, from enquiries made on the spot, that there is a noisy one, not on our property at all, but on Hathaway Mansions. We hope you will find this explanation satisfactory.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.

January 17, 191-.

Rechimney cowl at 15, Poynings Road and your letter of 14th curt., we are surprised to receive same. We sent out a tradesman on January 11, who reported same date that he had oiled and adjusted the cowl, and that it would give no further trouble. If you are still troubled, some other cowl must be causing it now. We understand, from enquiries made on the spot, that there is a noisy one, not on our property at all, but on Hathaway Mansions. We hope you will find this explanation satisfactory.

Murdoch McWhanneltoMessrs. Fairley and Willing.January 19, 191-.I am surprised by the contents of your letter of 17th, for which I am much obliged. If your tradesman attended to a cowl on the back stack of your property at 15, Poynings Road, on January 11, he must have attended to the wrong cowl. One can readily understand that if he adjusted and oiled a cowl which had not been making any noise it would continue to be silent. The error might easily occur, especially so soon after the New Year holidays. This is the only explanation I can think of, for the noise has been as bad as ever. I trust you will have the matter further looked into, as the situation, especially in regard to my wife's nerves, is becoming more and more serious.

Murdoch McWhanneltoMessrs. Fairley and Willing.

January 19, 191-.

I am surprised by the contents of your letter of 17th, for which I am much obliged. If your tradesman attended to a cowl on the back stack of your property at 15, Poynings Road, on January 11, he must have attended to the wrong cowl. One can readily understand that if he adjusted and oiled a cowl which had not been making any noise it would continue to be silent. The error might easily occur, especially so soon after the New Year holidays. This is the only explanation I can think of, for the noise has been as bad as ever. I trust you will have the matter further looked into, as the situation, especially in regard to my wife's nerves, is becoming more and more serious.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.January 23, 191-.In rechimney cowl at 15, Poynings Road and your letter of January 19, we can only say that it surprises us very much. We employ only the most competent tradesmen, who could not possibly make the kind of mistake you suppose. We beg to refer you to the part of our letter of January 17 referring to Hathaway Mansions.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.

January 23, 191-.

In rechimney cowl at 15, Poynings Road and your letter of January 19, we can only say that it surprises us very much. We employ only the most competent tradesmen, who could not possibly make the kind of mistake you suppose. We beg to refer you to the part of our letter of January 17 referring to Hathaway Mansions.

Murdoch McWhanneltoMessrs. Fairley and Willing.January 24, 191-.I regret very much the tone of your letter of January 23. It is hardly courteous to suggest, as your letter does, that I cannot distinguish between the noise of a cowl on Hathaway Mansions, which are fully 150 yards away, and one which is practically just above my bedroom. As I write this letter, seated at a table at the window of my study, I can actually see the cowl shrieking—if you will pardon a figure of speech which has perhaps a Hibernian flavour. As my study is built out to the back of this house, it is parallel with your property at 15, Poynings Road. I am within fifty yards of the offending cowl. The noise it makes rises and falls in shrillness according to the speed at which the cowl revolves under the pressure of the wind. We are not disturbed at all by any cowl on Hathaway Mansions, but by this one of yours, about which I wrote you first so long ago as January 3. I have kept a diary of the cowl since then and for some days earlier, showing the number of hours per day that we have been annoyed by it, the number of times it has prevented us from getting to sleep at the usual time, the number of nights we have been wakened from the same cause, and the number of mornings when we have been prematurely wakened, often as early as seven o'clock, and prevented from getting to sleep again. I shall be glad to send you a copy of this document for your information. The original I must retain, in case any legal proceedings should be necessary, as I have had each item in the diary certified by my wife and our house-tablemaid, a very intelligent and observant girl. I hope, however, it may not be necessary to take any legal steps, such as an action of interdict and damages at my instance, or a prosecution for nuisance at the instance of the public authority, which in this case would be the City Council, to a number of which body I am not altogether unknown. In fact I may say I took the opportunity of mentioning thematter to Bailie McPartan at a municipal conversazione to which my wife and I were invited last week. I do not wish to trouble you by writing at any undue length on this subject, but I think it right and only fair to tell you that owing to the actual noise of the cowl, and perhaps even more (as our doctor says) to the mental strain of listening to hear whether it is going to begin again, my wife is on the verge of a complete nervous collapse, which seems likely to necessitate some weeks' rest cure in a nursing home, and possibly a trip to the Canaries. I am advised by my lawyer that these are contingent liabilities, the burden of which would fall upon you as the owner of the cowl. In these circumstances I feel sure you will favour the immediate removal of this nuisance.

Murdoch McWhanneltoMessrs. Fairley and Willing.

January 24, 191-.

I regret very much the tone of your letter of January 23. It is hardly courteous to suggest, as your letter does, that I cannot distinguish between the noise of a cowl on Hathaway Mansions, which are fully 150 yards away, and one which is practically just above my bedroom. As I write this letter, seated at a table at the window of my study, I can actually see the cowl shrieking—if you will pardon a figure of speech which has perhaps a Hibernian flavour. As my study is built out to the back of this house, it is parallel with your property at 15, Poynings Road. I am within fifty yards of the offending cowl. The noise it makes rises and falls in shrillness according to the speed at which the cowl revolves under the pressure of the wind. We are not disturbed at all by any cowl on Hathaway Mansions, but by this one of yours, about which I wrote you first so long ago as January 3. I have kept a diary of the cowl since then and for some days earlier, showing the number of hours per day that we have been annoyed by it, the number of times it has prevented us from getting to sleep at the usual time, the number of nights we have been wakened from the same cause, and the number of mornings when we have been prematurely wakened, often as early as seven o'clock, and prevented from getting to sleep again. I shall be glad to send you a copy of this document for your information. The original I must retain, in case any legal proceedings should be necessary, as I have had each item in the diary certified by my wife and our house-tablemaid, a very intelligent and observant girl. I hope, however, it may not be necessary to take any legal steps, such as an action of interdict and damages at my instance, or a prosecution for nuisance at the instance of the public authority, which in this case would be the City Council, to a number of which body I am not altogether unknown. In fact I may say I took the opportunity of mentioning thematter to Bailie McPartan at a municipal conversazione to which my wife and I were invited last week. I do not wish to trouble you by writing at any undue length on this subject, but I think it right and only fair to tell you that owing to the actual noise of the cowl, and perhaps even more (as our doctor says) to the mental strain of listening to hear whether it is going to begin again, my wife is on the verge of a complete nervous collapse, which seems likely to necessitate some weeks' rest cure in a nursing home, and possibly a trip to the Canaries. I am advised by my lawyer that these are contingent liabilities, the burden of which would fall upon you as the owner of the cowl. In these circumstances I feel sure you will favour the immediate removal of this nuisance.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.January 27, 191-.Your letter of 24th curt. will receive immediate attention at the hands of our solicitors. Messrs. Samson and Samuel, 114, North Regent Street, to whom perhaps you will kindly address any further communications you may think necessaryrecowl.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.

January 27, 191-.

Your letter of 24th curt. will receive immediate attention at the hands of our solicitors. Messrs. Samson and Samuel, 114, North Regent Street, to whom perhaps you will kindly address any further communications you may think necessaryrecowl.

Gilbert Macdonald, 5, Poynings Avenue, Glasgow, N.W.,toGeorge Willing, house factor.February 3, 191-.Dear Willing,—For Heaven's sake, as an old friend, spike or remove the chimney cowl that McWhannel at No. 3 has written you about. He has called on me twice and written three long letters, "to enlist my sympathy and support." He is the most poisonous kind of bore, and I'll gladly pay for the removal of the cowl, if that's the only way of muzzling him.

Gilbert Macdonald, 5, Poynings Avenue, Glasgow, N.W.,toGeorge Willing, house factor.

February 3, 191-.

Dear Willing,—For Heaven's sake, as an old friend, spike or remove the chimney cowl that McWhannel at No. 3 has written you about. He has called on me twice and written three long letters, "to enlist my sympathy and support." He is the most poisonous kind of bore, and I'll gladly pay for the removal of the cowl, if that's the only way of muzzling him.

Reply by telephone, summarised.WillingtoMacdonald.February 4, 191-.I would do so, for friendship's sake, but I've just sold the property. I preferred that to having any more letters from him.

Reply by telephone, summarised.WillingtoMacdonald.

February 4, 191-.

I would do so, for friendship's sake, but I've just sold the property. I preferred that to having any more letters from him.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.February 14, 191-.Reyour letters to Messrs. Samson and Samuel of January 29th and 31st, and February 2nd, 5th, 8th, 11th, and your telegrams of 12th and 13th, we have now pleasure in advising you that we have sold the property at 15, Poynings Road, including the cowl, to the Corporation. We understand that the Corporation propose to use the premises as a reception house in connection with their Home for Lost Dogs, and we trust that this arrangement will be satisfactory to you.

Messrs. Fairley and WillingtoMurdoch McWhannel.

February 14, 191-.

Reyour letters to Messrs. Samson and Samuel of January 29th and 31st, and February 2nd, 5th, 8th, 11th, and your telegrams of 12th and 13th, we have now pleasure in advising you that we have sold the property at 15, Poynings Road, including the cowl, to the Corporation. We understand that the Corporation propose to use the premises as a reception house in connection with their Home for Lost Dogs, and we trust that this arrangement will be satisfactory to you.

Edward GreyWhile the most elaborate attempts to draw attention often fall flat,Edward Greysometimes the smallest deviation from the usual may prove irresistible.

Edward GreyWhile the most elaborate attempts to draw attention often fall flat,

While the most elaborate attempts to draw attention often fall flat,

Edward Greysometimes the smallest deviation from the usual may prove irresistible.

sometimes the smallest deviation from the usual may prove irresistible.

Commercial Candour.

From an Oxford Street wine merchant's advt.:—

"Equal to the so-called First Quality brands."

"He was defended by Mr. Macbottle of whisky."—Scotch paper.

The Macbottles (of whisky) are a very well-known Highland clan.

"At Sapphire Lodge in Vincent Square, W. A. Randall Wells has lately painted two rooms in a manner which combines novelty very successfully with a sound tradition." Speaking of the bedroom,The Timesgoes on to say that "there are passages from the 'Sensitive Blast' finely written on vellum in every panel." Certainly this variation on the title ofShelley'spoem seems to "combine novelty very successfully with a sound tradition."

I have been in a fair dust-up in Denver City,Made many a baresark rush;I have bluffed with Death in my time and scooped the kitty,Smashing a cool straight flush;I have gouged my jack-knife deep in a victim's thorax(Golly, how the blood did gush!);I have scalped some dozens of skulls with an Indian war-axeWithout being put to the blush.I've killed with stilettos at times and with crude sandbagging,Or a brute belaying-pin;With a twisted cord I have frequently done my scragging,And doped with devilish gin;I remember once in a boarding-house racket at RioHow my snickersnee snicked clean in;And I booted a blackguard to death with consid'rablebrioOne evening in Tien-tsin.I've run amok with a kris and sent men howling;With a kukri I've killed my prey;I'm an amateur still—I admit it—at disembow'ling,But I've settled a few that way;And I mind me well (for I still can sniff the aromaOf that particular fray)How I quartered and cut into ribbons some beggars at BomaOn rather a busy day.But I'm blowed—being really a rabid humanitarian,And a vegetarian too—If I mean to devour an unfortunate fellow AryanIn the Island of Oahu.I have done dire deeds by request, without any evasion,But this thing I will not do;If they won't be content with a "fake" for this single occasion,My cinema job is through.

I've killed with stilettos at times and with crude sandbagging,Or a brute belaying-pin;With a twisted cord I have frequently done my scragging,And doped with devilish gin;I remember once in a boarding-house racket at RioHow my snickersnee snicked clean in;And I booted a blackguard to death with consid'rablebrioOne evening in Tien-tsin.

I've run amok with a kris and sent men howling;With a kukri I've killed my prey;I'm an amateur still—I admit it—at disembow'ling,But I've settled a few that way;And I mind me well (for I still can sniff the aromaOf that particular fray)How I quartered and cut into ribbons some beggars at BomaOn rather a busy day.

But I'm blowed—being really a rabid humanitarian,And a vegetarian too—If I mean to devour an unfortunate fellow AryanIn the Island of Oahu.I have done dire deeds by request, without any evasion,But this thing I will not do;If they won't be content with a "fake" for this single occasion,My cinema job is through.

From a list of popular novels:—

"The Beloved Premier, byH. Maxwell.The Greater Law, byVictoria Cross."

Politicians can take their choice.

The Latest Cinema Poster.

"Our Sea Rooms now open.No Finer Death."

The Men that Matter.

Sound the clarion,Filson,Fyfe,To all the reading world proclaimOne signed half-column, straight from life,Is worth a page without a name.

I had a terrible experience yesterday, one of life's inky black hours which will bring a shudder whenever in future days memory seizes an idle moment to refresh herself. I had been dining with Scarfield and his mother at Hampstead, and with the entry of the coffee he had pleaded a sudden dyspepsia and withdrawn. So his mother, a dear colourless old lady, undertook to entertain me. By her desire I lighted a cigar.

She mentioned that she had just returned from a visit to Glasgow, and I remarked intelligently that Glasgow was a fine place. Considering for a moment, she observed that she thought the weather in Glasgow was colder than that of the South of England; and I said, Yes, very likely, I had heard so. In about two minutes she qualified her statement by informing me that the South of England was as a rule milder than Glasgow. I replied that it appeared to me very possible, adding recklessly that they had peculiarly mixed weather in Glasgow, which she seemed to think rather a questionable presentment of the case for the North, for she kept silent and ruminated for seven or eight minutes. My mind took a little excursion to Putney, where I have friends. But, before I had really settled at Putney, the lady's voice intimated that perhaps they had more rain in Glasgow than in the South of England.

I came back from Putney with a slight mental wrench, yet sufficiently clear-headed to say decidedly that Glasgow, on the whole, had a much better climate than the South, because I had once spent a day there, and the sun shone the whole time, so I ought to know. Then I started off again, and had just reached Walham Green (one does not speak of these places, but I may tell you that it is a station on the way to Putney, where I have a friend), when she responded with lightning-like swiftness that it couldn't be healthy to live in Glasgow. This bordered on repartee, so I countered rapidly with the brilliant suggestion that a good many people managed to live there, hoping she would not score by the obvious rejoinder that a good many people died there. If she had, I can't imagine how I should have extricated myself. Luckily she merely murmured, "Ah, yes," and reflected. I was just stepping off the train at a station (Putney—to be explicit, it is a lady friend) when there seemed to be a collision, and I caught myself saying, "Indeed!" though I don't know why. She nodded approval, however, and I ventured on a meditative "Ye-es."

"But they don't seem to mind," she said, glancing at me blandly through her spectacles. "Dothey?"

"You see," I answered, chancing it, "they are so used to it." She smiled and agreed.

"That must be the reason," she said. For what, I hadn't the remotest idea; but this just shows what presence of mind will do for one in an emergency.

"What a difference they must find," I went on boldly, and lapsed into a muse. She sighted it, however, and replied in less than five minutes—

"You mean now that the old-fashioned ones are coming in again?"

Here was a catastrophe. Did she refer to hats, or skirts, or Christmas cards? What sudden original observation had I unfortunately missed during that last journey South-westward? At all costs I must keep cool. I pulled myself together and plunged.

"Yes," I said. "You see the old-fashioned ones were so awfully tight, weren't they?"

"Tight?" she echoed. "Nottight."

"Well, not exactlytight," I answered, feeling rather distracted. "I meant large."

She looked at me suspiciously, I thought. "Ithink they're too long," she said, "and such a lot of people in them."

This was growing too complicated, and I wished heartily we had stuck to Glasgow and its weather.

"One finds them," she added, "so hard to follow."

I racked my miserable brain for anything that was lengthy, populous, and difficult to follow; in vain.

"Still," I gasped, glancing at the door, "one can always ... one can generally ... one can sometimes sit down ... for a rest ... if one is dreadfully tired," I explained.

She gazed at me reproachfully.

"I don't usually stand at the back of the pit," she said. "The last time Fred took me we had stalls."

"How—howjolly!" I murmured. "I was thinking of—of——"

"If you please, Mr. Fred would like some soda-water and a few biscuits taken up, Ma'am," said the servant, entering softly.

I rose.

"Must you go?" protested my conversationalist. "Oh, I am so sorry! But come again soon—you have kept me quite lively. Good-bye."

I took the tube to Charing Cross and changed there for Putney and Ethel. (Did I mention that her name was Ethel?) But when I told Ethel about it afterwards she said she thought sarcasm in elderly ladies was very objectionable.

Across the sundering gulf of timeI lift a song to you,Melodious as a minster chime,Loud, I expect, as two.Years have flown swiftly since we met;Do you, remembered one, forgetThe rapturous moment and sublimeWhen I drew near to you? I betA half-a-crown you do.Your name I never learned—Hélène,Beryl, perhaps Marie,Phyllis, Estelle, or merely Jane—It makes no odds to me.I hymn you, maiden, none the less;I toil in rhyme and metre; yes,From noon till eve I bear the painOf this prolonged poetic stress(With half-an-hour for tea).Carrots your hair was (i.e., red;"Carrots" is just my fun);Blue were your eyes, and from them spedA gleam that mocked the sun—Ithinkthat's so, but, as I say,Time has moved quickly since that day,And few, too few, the words we saidWhen languidly, as beauty may,You handed me a bun.Calmly you took it from the placeWhere it was used to sit,And I can still recall the graceWith which you dusted it.I paid you, and we parted; soLife's rich adventures come and go!And did that brief glimpse of your faceSet love within me surging? No,It didn't. Not a bit.I only sing because I must;Not mine the fret, the throbOf fevered passion; verse is justMy livelihood, or job.Searching for themes, I had a clear,Swift vision of your dial; queerHow such things happen, but I trustThese lines will bring me in, my dear,£1 or 30s.

Your name I never learned—Hélène,Beryl, perhaps Marie,Phyllis, Estelle, or merely Jane—It makes no odds to me.I hymn you, maiden, none the less;I toil in rhyme and metre; yes,From noon till eve I bear the painOf this prolonged poetic stress(With half-an-hour for tea).

Carrots your hair was (i.e., red;"Carrots" is just my fun);Blue were your eyes, and from them spedA gleam that mocked the sun—Ithinkthat's so, but, as I say,Time has moved quickly since that day,And few, too few, the words we saidWhen languidly, as beauty may,You handed me a bun.

Calmly you took it from the placeWhere it was used to sit,And I can still recall the graceWith which you dusted it.I paid you, and we parted; soLife's rich adventures come and go!And did that brief glimpse of your faceSet love within me surging? No,It didn't. Not a bit.

I only sing because I must;Not mine the fret, the throbOf fevered passion; verse is justMy livelihood, or job.Searching for themes, I had a clear,Swift vision of your dial; queerHow such things happen, but I trustThese lines will bring me in, my dear,£1 or 30s.

Edward GreyAT THE COSTUMIER'S.Oh yes, she's smart, but she hasn't an idea in her vocabulary."

Oh yes, she's smart, but she hasn't an idea in her vocabulary."

Feeling that not all the representative voices have been heard with regard to the question of smoking in theatres,Mr. Punchhas been making further inquiries. The replies are appended:—

GeneralVilla v. Villa.I think that smoking should be permitted everywhere.

Mr.Max Pemberton.I am totally opposed to giving theatres the same comfortable rules as the variety halls. If people may smoke at musical comedies they are in danger of avoiding revues.

Mr. G. K.Chesterton.I am in favour of giving the public all they want. Let them smoke if they wish to, everywhere and everywhen. Let them also chew and take snuff: a private snuff-box should be attached to every stall.

Mr.Victor Grayson.I would support smoking in theatres if pipes were permitted. But of course they won't be.

Mr.Bernard Shaw(to whom no inquiry was addressed, but that did not prevent his sending a long letter on the subject, the purport of which is that there should be no smoking anywhere).Had I ever smoked I should not now be the first intellectual in Europe.

SirJames Crichton-Browne.No smoking in theatres for me. And if I go to the Gaiety and find that a cigar or cigarette on my right or left singes my whiskers I will have the law of Mr.George Edwardes.

"Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch." Let there be smoking, but let some kind of control be kept on the brands of cigars that are smoked.

Mr.Lloyd George.I am in favour of the extension of all taxable luxuries.

Mr.Eustace Miles.Most London theatres are now so grossly over-ventilated that I welcome the idea of tobacco as helping to redress the balance.

MasterAnthony Asquith.Surely if there is smoking in one house of entertainment there may be smoking in another. I am sure my poor father would agree.

(See the daily paperspassim.)

Sir,—At last a ray of sanity has fallen like oil on the troubled waters of the Irish controversy and has given a well-merited cold douche to the extremists on either side. It is now acknowledged that what for want of a better term I may call the Federal Solution holds the field, and any attempt to expel it will only plunge the objector still deeper in the mire and cover him with ridicule from head to foot.Long ago I adumbrated in the clearest possible way the fundamental outlines of this solution, and every hour which has passed has only sufficed, to strengthen a conviction which was already so deeply rooted as to be beyond the reach of hostile argument. What is now required to be done may be stated in a nutshell. Let the Government withdraw the present Home Rule Bill. They will thus dispose at once of the opposition of Mr.Bonar Law, SirEdward Carson, Mr.J. L. Garvinand Mr.William O'Brien, and will provide themselves with a clean slate, which will be a peg on which any subsequent plan may be hung. Then let them bring in a Bill (or four or more Bills, if deemed necessary) for conferring autonomous governments on all the counties of England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales, every county to have the option of excluding itself for a period of not less than fifty or more than a hundred years by a majority of two-thirds of its electorate, women to count as two on a division. At the same time let the House of Lords be so reconstituted as to become in truth an Imperial Legislature, subject, however, to the veto of a new and impartial body to be composed of Field-Marshals, Archbishops, Judges and retired Lieutenant-Governors. Our Oversea Dominions could come into this scheme at any moment, if so desired. To this plan I can see no objections whatever except, perhaps, that its execution will take time and will stand in the way of other legislation—but anything that is worth doing takes time, and, for my own part, I want no other legislation.Yours, etc.,James B. Hornblower,Organising Secretary,Society of Federationists.

Long ago I adumbrated in the clearest possible way the fundamental outlines of this solution, and every hour which has passed has only sufficed, to strengthen a conviction which was already so deeply rooted as to be beyond the reach of hostile argument. What is now required to be done may be stated in a nutshell. Let the Government withdraw the present Home Rule Bill. They will thus dispose at once of the opposition of Mr.Bonar Law, SirEdward Carson, Mr.J. L. Garvinand Mr.William O'Brien, and will provide themselves with a clean slate, which will be a peg on which any subsequent plan may be hung. Then let them bring in a Bill (or four or more Bills, if deemed necessary) for conferring autonomous governments on all the counties of England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales, every county to have the option of excluding itself for a period of not less than fifty or more than a hundred years by a majority of two-thirds of its electorate, women to count as two on a division. At the same time let the House of Lords be so reconstituted as to become in truth an Imperial Legislature, subject, however, to the veto of a new and impartial body to be composed of Field-Marshals, Archbishops, Judges and retired Lieutenant-Governors. Our Oversea Dominions could come into this scheme at any moment, if so desired. To this plan I can see no objections whatever except, perhaps, that its execution will take time and will stand in the way of other legislation—but anything that is worth doing takes time, and, for my own part, I want no other legislation.

Yours, etc.,

James B. Hornblower,Organising Secretary,Society of Federationists.

(In answer to the above.)

Sir,—Dr. Hornblower is at his old games. His plan for settling the Irish question is no plan at all, as I have frequently shown. Whenever it has been submitted to the fire of criticism it has been found that it will not wash. It is quite useless to try to mix oil and vinegar in a jug that will not hold water.I do not wish to be misunderstood. I am a convinced supporter of a Federal Solution and have for many years endeavoured to remove the public apathy which I have found to exist in regard to this profoundly interesting question. My suggestion is that, in order to sift the matter thoroughly and, if possible, to strike out a new path, we should put our existing constitution into the melting pot and thus clear away the weeds which threaten to choke its fair growth. Let Parliament be a movable institution, sitting for one week in Australia, for one week in Canada, for one week in Ireland, and so on. In the course of a year it will have sat in all the component parts of the Empire, which will then, indeed, be an Empire on which the sun never sets, and in which Parliament always sits. It need not, of course, be the same Parliament in every case, but can be varied, to suit local customs and prejudices. As a symbol of unity His Majesty the King might be conveyed by a special service of air-ships from one country to another, so that he might always open every Parliament in person. England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales would thus take their proper places in the Empire by the side of Barbados, Canada and British Guiana, and there would be no jealousy because all would be treated equally. Only in this way can civil war be avoided and Ulster be satisfied.Yours, etc.,Benjamin Woollet,Chairman of the Amalgamated Leaguefor the Federation of the Empire.

I do not wish to be misunderstood. I am a convinced supporter of a Federal Solution and have for many years endeavoured to remove the public apathy which I have found to exist in regard to this profoundly interesting question. My suggestion is that, in order to sift the matter thoroughly and, if possible, to strike out a new path, we should put our existing constitution into the melting pot and thus clear away the weeds which threaten to choke its fair growth. Let Parliament be a movable institution, sitting for one week in Australia, for one week in Canada, for one week in Ireland, and so on. In the course of a year it will have sat in all the component parts of the Empire, which will then, indeed, be an Empire on which the sun never sets, and in which Parliament always sits. It need not, of course, be the same Parliament in every case, but can be varied, to suit local customs and prejudices. As a symbol of unity His Majesty the King might be conveyed by a special service of air-ships from one country to another, so that he might always open every Parliament in person. England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales would thus take their proper places in the Empire by the side of Barbados, Canada and British Guiana, and there would be no jealousy because all would be treated equally. Only in this way can civil war be avoided and Ulster be satisfied.

Yours, etc.,

Benjamin Woollet,Chairman of the Amalgamated Leaguefor the Federation of the Empire.

(In answer to the two preceding letters.)

Sir,—Professor Woollet and Dr. Hornblower are both wrong. The only way in which a Federal Solution, such as we all desire, can be brought about is to convert the existing House of Lords—no change being made in its constitution—into the supreme and only legislative assembly of the whole Empire. The House of Commons, of course, would cease to sit, or it might take the place of the present London County Council. This is the true plan. All others are absurd. It is useless for people to say they do not want this. We insist on their having it.Yours, etc.,Jonathan Firedamp,President of Council of theFederal Association.

Yours, etc.,

Jonathan Firedamp,President of Council of theFederal Association.

(The latest thing in female head-wear is said to be the "Minerva" Hat.)

Forgive me if my nerves were somewhat shaken;Pardon me if my pulse went pit-a-patWhen I observed your tiny head had takenTo a "Minerva" hat.Love at my heart's closed door, with loudest knockings,Won his admittance as I gazed on youGarbed in the gear of her, of all blue-stockings,The most superbly blue.For you seemed nobler far in form and feature;In wisdom, too, I deemed you now divine,And, though I felt myself a worthless creature,I swore to make you mine.I said, "I'll win this goddess. Though the siege isLong, I shall learn her wisdom if I can,Until in time she throws her nuptial ægisOver her Super-man."And then you spoke, in accents all too human,Glanced at me coyly from beneath your casque;My vision vanished, and I saw the womanBehind that heavenly mask.And straight I felt (so flippant was your mien) aPain as I mused on Pallas and her fowl,And left the phantom of a faked Athena,A disillusioned Owl.

Forgive me if my nerves were somewhat shaken;Pardon me if my pulse went pit-a-patWhen I observed your tiny head had takenTo a "Minerva" hat.

Love at my heart's closed door, with loudest knockings,Won his admittance as I gazed on youGarbed in the gear of her, of all blue-stockings,The most superbly blue.

For you seemed nobler far in form and feature;In wisdom, too, I deemed you now divine,And, though I felt myself a worthless creature,I swore to make you mine.

I said, "I'll win this goddess. Though the siege isLong, I shall learn her wisdom if I can,Until in time she throws her nuptial ægisOver her Super-man."

And then you spoke, in accents all too human,Glanced at me coyly from beneath your casque;My vision vanished, and I saw the womanBehind that heavenly mask.

And straight I felt (so flippant was your mien) aPain as I mused on Pallas and her fowl,And left the phantom of a faked Athena,A disillusioned Owl.

Love's Labour Lost.

"The Newcastle Fire Brigade were called upon last night to deal with an outbreak at——, where Mr. J. G—— carries on business as a firelighter manufacturer. Before much damage had been done, the firemen were able to extinguish the flames with chemicals."Newcastle Daily Journal.

Newcastle Daily Journal.

Once again we see how the economic instinct clashes with the artistic temperament.

A POINT TO POINT IN IRELAND.A POINT TO POINT IN IRELAND.Owner of Rank Bad Horse (who has given the mount to a stranger)."Begorra, I didn't know he was a friend of yer honour's! Tell him to get down off that horse! Shure, I thought he was only a —— Saxon."

Owner of Rank Bad Horse (who has given the mount to a stranger)."Begorra, I didn't know he was a friend of yer honour's! Tell him to get down off that horse! Shure, I thought he was only a —— Saxon."

(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.)

A reflection that I could not resist after readingLove the Harper(Smith, Elder) was that the Boy appears in this volume as a very indifferent performer upon his instrument. For the muddle into which he plunged the amatory affairs of the inhabitants of Downside was terrible. Downside was a quiet delightful village, as lovingly described by MissEleanor G. Hayden, but the number of misplaced attachments it contained seemed, asLady Bracknellonce observed, "in excess of that which statisticians have laid down for our guidance." There wasJohn Harding, the hero, who began by courtingPhyllis, and subsequently transferred his suit toRuth. There wasWill, his brother, an even more inconstant lover, whomPhyllis(still nominally betrothed toJohn) adored at first sight, and who divided his own heart betweenRuth,Phyllisand the crippledMiss Mayling. There was alsoRuthherself, who thought she had a Past (she hadn't, at least it was all right really; but just in what sense it would be unfair to explain here) and therefore imagined herself for no man. The story begins with a wedding on the first page; and what with one thing and another I began to fear that this was the last consummation we were likely to get. But, of course, in the end—— But I shall not tell you how the couples finally re-sort themselves, because this is the author's secret, and one that she very craftily preserves till the last moment. It is arithmetically inevitable that there must be an odd woman left over in the end; but as to her identity I was entirely wrong, and so probably will you be. This ending is perhaps the best thing—I don't mean the words in an unkind sense—about a pleasant if not very thrilling story of a country that MissHaydenevidently knows with the knowledge of affection.

Perhaps some of those who rememberJ. Burgon Bickerstethcaptaining the Oxford soccer team four years ago may be surprised to find him serving his apprenticeship at sky-piloting in Alberta. And very manfully and sincerely and tactfully he does it, to judge by the account which he modestly renders inThe Land of Open Doors(Wells, Gardner). With headquarters at Edmonton he rides and drives or swims (when the floods are out or the bridges down) across this untidy country from shack to shack, holding odd little services in dormitories and kitchens, and evidently making friends with the rough pioneer folk, railway men and small farmers, of his assorted acquaintance. The discouragements of such a task must be immense; indeed, they peep through the narrative, reticently enough, for grousing habits are not in the equipment of this staunch and cheery young parson. His notes of this land of promise and swift achievement are admirably observed. He has the gift of characterisation with humour, is clever at reproducing evidently authentic and entertaining dialogues, and has caught the Western idiom, not only in these set reproductions, but unconsciously in his own writing, which is singularly straightforward and attractive, nor burdened with the sort of cleverness which the young graduate is apt to air. Neither is there anything of the prig in his composition—his book abounds in reported words which an earlier generation of clerics would certainly have censored—but when he is saddened by the indifference, the unplumbed materialism and what he sees as the wickedness of his scattered flock he might remember for his comfort that valid and sane distinction of the casuists between formal and material sin. Anyway, good luck to him for a sportsman!

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