HONOUR SATISFIED.

HONOUR SATISFIED.HONOUR SATISFIED.GERMAN DELEGATE. "SIGN? I'D SOONER DIE!(Aside)AFTER WHICH PRELIMINARY REMARKS I WILL NOW SELECT A NIB."

GERMAN DELEGATE. "SIGN? I'D SOONER DIE!(Aside)AFTER WHICH PRELIMINARY REMARKS I WILL NOW SELECT A NIB."

Monday, May 19th.—The coalminers lately received concessions in wages and hours that are going to cost the country twenty millions sterling in the present financial year. The first result of this boon (testeSir AUCKLAND GEDDES) is that they are turning out less coal per man than ever, and that the unhappy consumer must look forward to a further reduction in his already meagre ration. It is rather hard upon Mr. SMILLIE, who daily dilates in the Coal Commission upon the hardships of the miner's life, that his clients should let him down like this.

For a thorough-going democrat commend me to Lieutenant-Commander KENWORTHY, the new Member for Central Hull, whose latest idea is that before British troops are sent to any new front the approval of the House of Commons should be obtained. I suspect that if, during his active-service days, some Member had proposed a similar restriction on the movements of the Fleet the comments of the gallant Commander himself would have been more pithy than Parliamentary.

LADIES IN GOVERNMENT MOTOR-CARS.LADIES IN GOVERNMENT MOTOR-CARS.General Seely."WELL, HARDLY EVER."

The number of motor-cars at the disposal of the Air Ministry now stands at the apparently irreducible minimum of forty-two. Quite a number of the officials use train or bus, like ordinary folk; some have even been seen to walk; and there has been such a slump in "joy-riding" that when asked if ladies were now carried in the official chariots General SEELY was able to assure the House that that never happens; though I think he added under his breath—"well, hardly ever."

There was barely a quorum when Colonel LESLIE WILSON rose to introduce the estimates of the Shipping Controller. This was a pity, for he had a good story to tell of the mercantile marine, and told it very well. He was less successful on the subject of the "national shipyards," which have cost four millions of money and in two years have not succeeded in turning out a single completed ship. With the wisdom that comes after the event Sir CHARLES HENRY fulminated ferociously against the "superman" who had imposed this "disastrous scheme" upon the country.

This brought up the superman himself, Sir ERIC GEDDES, who in the most vigorous speech he has yet delivered in the House defended the scheme as being absolutely essential at the time it was initiated. It was a war-time expedient, which changing circumstances had rendered unnecessary; but if the War and the U-boat campaign had gone on it might have been the salvation of the country. After all you can't expect to have shipyards without making a few slips.

Tuesday, May 20th.—The advance of woman continues. Very soon she will have her foot upon the first rung of the judicial ladder, and be able to write J.P. after her name, for the LORD CHANCELLOR, pointing out that in this matter the Government were bound to honour the pledges of the PRIME MINISTER, gracefully swallowed Lord BEAUCHAMP'S Bill. He took occasion, however, to warn the prospective justicesses (if that is the right term) that, as the Commissions of the Peace were already fully manned, it might be some time before any large number of ladies could be added to the roll of those who, in the words of the Prayer-book, "indifferently administer justice."

Quite unintentionally, of course, Mr. BOTTOMLEY did the Government a real service in the Commons. Every day since his return from Paris Mr. BONAR LAW has been pestered with inquiries as to when, if ever, the House was to be allowed to discuss the Peace terms, and has evaded a direct answer with more or less ingenuity. This afternoon Mr. BOTTOMLEY, after hearing that the LEADER OF THE HOUSE had "nothing to add" to his previous replies, asked if he was right in supposing that, when the Treaty came up for ratification, the House must take it or leave it, and would have no power to amend it in any respect. Mr. LAW joyfully jumped at the chance of ending the daily catechism once for all. "That," he said, "exactly represents the position, and I do not see in what other way any Treaty could ever be arranged."

In anticipation of the debate on the Finance Bill Mr. SYDNEY ARNOLD sought an admission from the CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER that the income-tax on small incomes was hardly worth retaining, owing to the cost of collection. Not at all, said Mr. CHAMBERLAIN. It costs six hundred thousand pounds and brings in eight million. Of course, he added, it costs more proportionately to collect small amounts than large. If the whole of the income-tax could be paid by one individual the cost of collection would benil. One imagined the CHANCELLOR on the eve of the Budget wishing,à laNERO, that the whole of the British people had but one purse, into which he could dip as deeply and as often as he pleased.

The debate on the Finance Bill was largely devoted to the proposed "levy on capital," which a section of the "Wee Frees," who already display fissiparous tendencies, have borrowed from the Labourites. After their amendment was framed, however, Mr. ASQUITH spoke at Newcastle, and ostentatiously refused to say a word about the new nostrum. Sir DONALD MACLEAN, anxious to avoid displeasing either his old leader or his new supporters, contented himself with the suggestion that a Commission should be set up to consider the subject.

The CHANCELLOR had little difficulty in disposing of the amendment. He might, indeed, have contented himself with quoting the War Bond advertisements, which daily inform us that the patriotic investor "will receive the whole of his money back with a substantial premium."

The Preference proposals which Mr. ACLAND had described as bred "by Filial Piety out of the Board of Trade" received the unexpected aid of Sir ALFRED MOND, who disposed of his Cobdenite prejudices as easily as the conjurer swallows his gloves, and unblushingly asserted that the tiny Preference now proposed, far from being the advance-guard of Protection, was in reality a very strong movement towards Free Trade. Comforted by this authoritative declaration Coalition Liberals helped the Government to defeat the amendment by 317 to 72.

THE LONG PULL.THE LONG PULL.MR. ROBERTS RESPONDS TO HIS COUNTRY'S CALL.

Wednesday, May 21st.—The Peers being as usual rather short of work at this period of the Session, the LORD CHANCELLOR introduced a Bill "to enable the Official Solicitor for the time being to exercise powers and duties conferred on the person holding the office of Official Solicitor."

The rumours that have lately appeared in the papers, to the effect that the FIRST COMMISSIONER OF WORKS was contemplating revolutionary alterations at Hampton Court—in particular that he was going to transform the famous pond-garden into something quite different: a MOND-garden, in fact—are, it seems, grossly exaggerated. All that he has done is to appoint a Committee of experts to advise him what, if any, changes are desirable.

The resumed debate on the Finance Bill was enlivened by some personal details. By way of showing that even without a levy on capital the rich man bears his share of the burdens of the State, Sir EDWARD CARSON remarked that, when he receives a retainer, he immediately allows for the super-tax and enters it in his fee-book at only half the amount. He had had one that very morning. "Say it was five pounds"—and the House laughed loudly at such an absurd supposition.

Then we had Lord HUGH CECIL pointing his argument that the importance of the proposed Preference to the Dominions was political rather than economical by the remark that if he was going to be married—which he fervently hoped would not happen to him—he would expect his mythical bride to value his engagement-ring less for its pecuniary than its sentimental value.

A capital speech by Mr. STANLEY BALDWIN, one of the few men in the House who talks finance as if he really understood it, wound up the debate, and procured the Finance Bill a second readingnem. con.

Thursday, May 22nd.—The Ministry of Health Bill came up for third reading in the Lords. An eleventh-hour attempt by the Government to provide the new Minister with an additional Under-Secretary was heavily defeated, Lord DOWNHAM being appropriately enough one of the Tellers for the Opposition.

The Commons heard some good news. Mr. KENDALL'S pathetic story of an angling-party which, after walking five miles along a dusty road to its favourite hostelry, found it adorned with the now too frequent notice, "Closed—No Beer," brought a most sympathetic reply from Mr. GEORGE ROBERTS, who boldly confessed, "I am a believer in good beer myself," and later on announced that the Government had decided to increase the output from twenty million to twenty-six million standard barrels.

HE'S NOT HIT ONE OF 'EM SINCE WE CAAME IN.Geordie (after intently watching conductor of Jazz band for some time)."AH'VE HAD ENOUGH O' THIS. YON CHAP WI' STICK'S ONLY CODDIN'. HE'S NOT HIT ONE OF 'EM SINCE WE CAAME IN."

Geordie (after intently watching conductor of Jazz band for some time)."AH'VE HAD ENOUGH O' THIS. YON CHAP WI' STICK'S ONLY CODDIN'. HE'S NOT HIT ONE OF 'EM SINCE WE CAAME IN."

I SUPPOSE YOU'LL BE THINKING OF TAKING TO WORK NOW?Farmer."WELL, I BE MAIN GLAD TO SEE YOU BACK FROM THE WAR. I SUPPOSE YOU'LL BE THINKING OF TAKING TO WORK NOW?"

Farmer."WELL, I BE MAIN GLAD TO SEE YOU BACK FROM THE WAR. I SUPPOSE YOU'LL BE THINKING OF TAKING TO WORK NOW?"

The original answer to the question at the head of these insignificant remarks was (correct me if I am wrong) nothing. "A rose," saidJuliet, "by any other name would smell as sweet." But of course she was wrong. If a rose were handed to a visitor in the garden, with the words, "Do see how wonderful this onion is!" such a prejudice would be set up as fatally to impair its fragrance. There is, in fact, much in a name; and therefore the attempt of a correspondent ofThe Daily Expressto find a generic nomenclature for domestic servants should be given very serious attention; the purpose being to meet "the objection felt by so many women servants to being either called by Christian or surname."

As a means of placating this very sensitive class the correspondent writes:—

"One nearly always calls a cook by the name of her calling. I therefore suggest that a name be adopted beginning with the first letter of the class. For example:—

Here we have materials for a sweeping innovation which might, if it spread, not only simplify life but reinforce the language. For why confine such terms to domestic servants? If all parlourmaids are to be called "Palmer," why not, for example, call all editors "Eddy" (very good Eddy, or very bad Eddy, according to taste)? And all London County Councillors, "Elsie"?

But let us look a little narrowly at the specimens given. "Palmer" for "parlourmaid" is good; but "Louise" does not reproduce the sound values of "lady's-maid." Some such word as "Lais" would be better, or why not "Lady-bird," which combines the desired similarity with the new euphemism "home-bird," invented to help transform domestic service to a privilege and pleasure? "Hannah" for "housemaid" is also wrong, although for "handmaid" it would be good. On the analogy of "Palmer," why not call all housemaids "How"? or even "House"?

If American Colonels can be called HOUSE, why not English housemaids? For generals "Jenny" would be better than "Gertrude"; and for scullery-maids "Scully." "Scully" is quite a good name; there is a distinguished psychologist named SULLY, and there was an M.P. for Pontefract named GULLY. No scullery-maid need be offended.

It is odd how we call some persons by their profession or calling, and others not. We say "Doctor," but we do not address our gum-architect as "Dentist." We say "Carpenter," but we do not address a plumber as "Plumber." (Incidentally, all plumbers might be called Warner). We say "Gardener" and "Coachman," but we do not address an advocate as "Barrister." If we had a definite rule everything would be simple, but as we have not it is necessary to find several more names. I am not at all satisfied withThe Daily Express'stest. For example, what would a second parlour-maid be called? If three were kept they might be called Palm, Palmer and Palmist. A long vista of difficulties opens.

["Encouraged by the summer weather yesterday, a titled lady took her tea with some friends on the footway at Belsize Park Gardens, Hampstead. Unsympathetic passers-by, however, complained of the obstruction ... and, following representation to the police by the public, theal-frescotea-party was broken up."—Daily News.]

In spite of the innate conservatism of the police we are pleased to think that the seeds of a happy unconventionality, sown by this courageous lady of title, have already borne fruit.

On Thursday night, about ten o'clock, the attention of passers-by was drawn to a four-post bed, which was being trundled along the Strand by eight stalwart footmen. On it reposed the Duke of Sleepyacres. It appears that his Grace, on return from active service, found that the confined air of an ordinary bed-room engendered insomnia. He therefore conceived the idea of sleeping in the open-air and caused his bed to be placed in the centre of the Strand, opposite the entrance to the Savoy Hotel. The presence of the sleeping nobleman might have been unnoticed, had not Mr. SMILLIE chanced to pass the spot on his way from dining after a session of the Coal Commission. His eye was immediately caught by the ducal crest on the panels of the bed. Suspicious that this was a dastardly attempt on the part of a member of the landed classes to obtain sleeping-rights in a public thoroughfare, Mr. SMILLIE lodged a complaint with the police, and the Duke was removed to Bow Street.

Some mild interest has been displayed by the public in a camp which has been established by three subalterns in the roadway at the corner of Charing Cross and Northumberland Avenue. It is a small and quite inconspicuous affair, consisting merely of an army pattern bell-tent, a camp fire and a few deck chairs. Our representative recently visited the occupants to ascertain the reason for their presence. After hastily declining an offer of a glass of E.F.C. port, smuggled over from France, he inquired with polite interest whether his hosts contemplated a lengthy stay. They replied that they did. They were waiting for their demobilisation gratuities. The locality, they added, was a quiet one, where advancing old age could be met in comfortable meditation. Also the offices of Messrs. Cox, Box & Co., the Regimental Agents, were in convenient proximity, and the latest news of the gratuities could be obtained with a minimum of trouble. Up to the present the police have not interfered with them, apparently taking them for workmen employed in repairing the roadway.

"KISSING TIME."

For an infrequent worshipper at the shrine of Musical Comedy the atmosphere of a first night at a new, or renascent, theatre is perhaps rather too heady. There are so many potent vintages set on the board; so many connoisseurs who will offer to tell you beforehand of the merits of their favourite brands.

I confess, to my shame, that when an actor with whose gifts I am unfamiliar is received on his entrance with a storm of applause, I am not prejudiced, as I ought to be, in his favour. On the contrary I follow his performance the more judicially, and if I cannot find that it corresponds to his apparent reputation I am apt (wrongly again) to conclude that the fault lies with him and not with myself.

THE OLD GAIETY IN A NEW HOME.THE OLD GAIETY IN A NEW HOME.MR. GEORGE GROSSMITH AND MR. LESLIE HENSON AT THE WINTER GARDEN THEATRE.

But in the case ofKissing Time, after a rather dull First Act, during which I kept telling myself that I was not suffering from senile decay, I had to admit that the gods were in a great measure justified of their elect. For one thing the authors, taking a bold and original line (from the French), had produced a coherent plot; and both dialogue and lyrics were above what I understand to be the average in this kind. One expects, of course, a little Cockney licence—"pyjamas" rhymed with "Palmer's," and so on—and a certain amount of popular banality, as in the song, "Some Day" (rapturously approved); but there were excellent verses on the text, "A woman has no mercy on a man," and, I doubt not, much other good stuff which I missed because Mr. IVAN CARYLL, who conducted (and was probably thinking more of his own pleasant music than somebody else's words), did not make enough allowance for my slowness in the up-take of patter.

Mr. LESLIE HENSON was funny, and should be funnier still when the book has been cut down by about an hour and space allowed him for private developments. Miss PHYLLIS DARE was graceful and confident. One easily understood her popularity; but Miss YVONNE ARNAUD, who was a little slow for the general pace, must, I think, be more of an acquired taste.

Mr. TOM WALLS (very svelte in his French uniform) did sound work, and so did Mr. GEORGE BARRETT, a humourist by gift of nature. Mr. GEORGE GROSSMITH, who with Mr. LAURILLARD has made out of the old Middlesex a most attractive and spacious "Winter Garden," brought with him the traditions of the Gaiety, and had a warm personal welcome. I could bear him to be funnier than he was; but as I'm sure that he's clever enough to be anything he likes I can only assume that he wasn't really trying.

I join everybody in wishing him good cheer in this "garden" of his, where, if the auguries fulfil themselves, he is not likely, even in the dog-days, to have to endure "the winter of our discontent."

O. S.

I know a spot where balmy air and stillEnfolds the placid dweller hour by hourAs, all unhampered in his tranquil bower,He stretches idle limbs at ease untilThe blessed peace about him calms his willAnd hidden thoughts, expanding into flower,Amaze him with their beauty, and the sourSharp voice of Care, that sounds far off and shrill,Moves him to gentle mirth that men can beSo strangely foolish as to heed her call,Regardless of their true felicity....Avoid the place, ye bores. Aroint ye all!Afflict not one to this dear haven fled,My private earthly paradise—my BED.

I know a spot where balmy air and still

Enfolds the placid dweller hour by hour

As, all unhampered in his tranquil bower,

He stretches idle limbs at ease until

The blessed peace about him calms his will

And hidden thoughts, expanding into flower,

Amaze him with their beauty, and the sour

Sharp voice of Care, that sounds far off and shrill,

Moves him to gentle mirth that men can be

So strangely foolish as to heed her call,

Regardless of their true felicity....

Avoid the place, ye bores. Aroint ye all!

Afflict not one to this dear haven fled,

My private earthly paradise—my BED.

"Quarrymen (experienced) Wanted, wages 1s. 5-1/2d. per hour; constant employment for good men. No bankers need apply."—Country Paper.

Why this marked discrimination against bankers? We have known several who were most respectable.

The unexampled rapidity with which, owing to the opportunities of war-time, men in all walks of life have reached the top of the tree in early manhood is leading on to strange but inevitable results. Unable to rise any higher they are already contemplating the heroic course of justifying their eminence by starting afresh at the bottom of the ladder.

The crucial and classical example is, of course, furnished by our Boy Chancellor. It is an open secret that, with that sagacious foresight which has always characterised him, Lord BIRKENHEAD recognises the impermanency of his exalted position and is resolved when and if he leaves the Woolsack to resume practice as a Junior. It is further rumoured that some of our judges intend to follow his august example. The atmosphere of the Bench is not always exhilarating, and the salary is fixed. But a self-effacing altruism doubtless also enters into their motives.

The impending exodus from Whitehall is another factor in the situation. Scores of demobilised "Ministerial angels" will soon be released, and are meditating fresh outlets for their benevolent energies. Many of them are young and some beautiful. The romance of commerce and of the stage will prove a potent lure. Never has the demand for an elegant deportment and urbane manners in our great shops and stores been more clamant; never has the standard been higher. Our ex-officials may have to stoop, but it will be to conquer. We can confidently look forward to the day when no shop will be without its DEMOSTHENES, ALCIBIADES or its CICERO. Opportunities for employment on the stage are likely to be multiplied by the alleged intention of several actor-managers to enter Parliament, while others, nobly anxious to satisfy the claims of youth, have expressed their resolve only to appear henceforth in such subsidiary parts as dead bodies and outside shouts.

In the domain of letters some startling developments are also threatened on similar lines. Mr. WELLS, always remarkable for his refusal to commit himself to any finality in the formulation of his opinions, has, it is said, decided to devote his talents in future exclusively to the composition of educational works in words of one syllable, and where possible of three letters. He is also contemplating a revised and simplified edition of his novels, beginning withMr. Brit Sees It Thro'. Mr. SHAW'S fresh start will be the greatest surprise of all. He intends to go to Eton and Oxford, and, as a don, to combat the tide of Socialism at our older Universities. Mr. BELLOC, it is reported, has re-enlisted in the French Artillery, and Mr. ARNOLD BENNETT has accepted a commission in the Dutch mercantile marine.

The future of Mr. ASQUITH has given rise to a good deal of speculation in the Press, but we are in a position to state that he does not intend to re-enter politics or to resume his practice at the Bar, but has resolved to return to his first love—journalism. Sport is the only department in which the ornate and orotund style of which Mr. ASQUITH is a master is still in vogue, and the description of classic events in classical diction will furnish him with a congenial opening for the exercise of his great literary talent.

The rumour that Mr. BALFOUR, on his retirement from the post of Foreign Secretary, will take up the arduous duties of caddie-master at St. Andrew's is not yet fully confirmed. Meanwhile he is known to be considering the alternative offer of the secretaryship to the Handel Society. In this context it is interesting to hear that, according to a Rotterdam agency, Sir EDWARD ELGAR has just completed a series of pieces for the mouth-organ, dedicated to Sir LEO CHIOZZA MONEY, which will, it is hoped, be shortly heard in the luncheon interval at the Coal Commission.

EXCUSE ME, OFFICER, BUT HAVE YOU SEEN ANY PICKPOCKETS ABOUT HERE WITH A HANDKERCHIEF MARKED 'SUSAN'?"EXCUSE ME, OFFICER, BUT HAVE YOU SEEN ANY PICKPOCKETS ABOUT HERE WITH A HANDKERCHIEF MARKED 'SUSAN'?"

"EXCUSE ME, OFFICER, BUT HAVE YOU SEEN ANY PICKPOCKETS ABOUT HERE WITH A HANDKERCHIEF MARKED 'SUSAN'?"

DEAR ALEC,—Jolly glad to hear you're coming home. I beat you after all, though. I suppose I was looking particularly pivotal when I saw the D.O., because he let me through at once.Will you go back to the Governor's office?Yours ever, GARRY NORTON.DEAR GARRY,—Haven't the faintest; but before settling down I'm going to have a week or two, either sailing or fishing, so as to try to shed the army feeling, and I think you'd better come with me. I've saved no end of shekels, and I'm going to give old Cox a run for his money (the bit that's mine, I mean, that he's been keeping for me).If you can find a likely craft, mop her up for me, old bean, and we'll have a hairy time somewhere on the S.W. coast.Yours in haste, ALEC RIDLEY.DEAR ALEC,—I wish you'd be less vague. What sort of a boat do you want—schooner, yawl, cutter or spoonbill? A half-decker, or the full five quires to the ream? Give me definite instructions and I'll do my best to carry them out. I'm afraid I can't get off, so you'll have to take someone else, or incarnadine the seas by yourself.Yours as ever, GARRY.DEAR GARRY,—Sorry to hear you can't come. Any kind of a boat that will go without bouncing too high will do, and if it has a rudder, a couple of starboard tacks, bath and butler's pantry so much the better. I mean to wash out the memory of those nine months at Basra last year with the flies.Yours, ALEC.DEAR ALEC,—What you want, my lad, is a houseboat, and I doubt whether you'll get one during this shortage of residential property.I should try fishing if I were you. In fact I have taken a bit of water for you in Chamshire. I haven't seen it, but am told it's very all right and only twenty pounds till the 10th of June.Yours ever, GARRY NORTON.DEAR GARRY,—This is a top-hole place. To have got this water for so little you 're absolutely the Senior Wangler.You might send me some mayflies, old dear; about half a pint I shall want, judging from the infernal number of bushes on the river banks here. Mr. MILLS's bombs have put me right off my cast and I can't do the old Shimmy shake either somehow. I can hear the click of croquet balls in the Vicarage garden as I write, so the hooping season has begun.There's one other chap staying in the pub. Talks and dresses like a War profiteer. Seems to be doing nothing but loafing about at present.Yours ever, ALEC.Postcard.Have ordered the mayflies and will send them soon as poss. G. N.DEAR GARRY,—Thanks for yours. Not so anxious about mayflies now, but should be glad if you would send me a pound or two of the best chocolates. Having good sport.In haste for post,Yours, ALEC.DEAR ALEC,—I enclose a couple of pounds of extra special chocolates, but didn't know they were included in the Angler's Pharmacopoeia.Glad you are having good sport and justifying my choice of water.Yours as usual, GARRY.DEAR GARRY,—Thanks for chocs. The Vicar called the other day, and I have caught several cups of tea on the recoil at the Vicarage since. Miss Stevenson, his ewe-lamb, is A1, and we have had some splendid sport together. We caught eleven beauties yesterday; one was over 19-1/2 inches.Post just going out.Yours in haste, ALEC.P.S.—Another couple of pounds of chocs would be useful.DEAR ALEC,—-Awfully glad to hear the fishing is so good. I shall expect a brace of good long trout for breakfast one of these days.Yours, GARRY.DEAR GARRY,—Who said anything about fish? I sub-let the water (at a profit) to the War-profiteer three days after arriving.Miss Stevenson, with a brace of bouncing terriers, is outside whistling for me, so I must put the lid on.Yours, ALEC.DEAR ALEC,—What's the idea? You say you let the fishing a fortnight ago; but last Wednesday you wrote about catching eleven beauties, one over nineteen and a half inches long. Some trout—what? But why the terriers?Yours in darkness,GARRY NORTON.Postcard.Rats.ALEC.

DEAR ALEC,—Jolly glad to hear you're coming home. I beat you after all, though. I suppose I was looking particularly pivotal when I saw the D.O., because he let me through at once.

Will you go back to the Governor's office?

Yours ever, GARRY NORTON.

DEAR GARRY,—Haven't the faintest; but before settling down I'm going to have a week or two, either sailing or fishing, so as to try to shed the army feeling, and I think you'd better come with me. I've saved no end of shekels, and I'm going to give old Cox a run for his money (the bit that's mine, I mean, that he's been keeping for me).

If you can find a likely craft, mop her up for me, old bean, and we'll have a hairy time somewhere on the S.W. coast.

Yours in haste, ALEC RIDLEY.

DEAR ALEC,—I wish you'd be less vague. What sort of a boat do you want—schooner, yawl, cutter or spoonbill? A half-decker, or the full five quires to the ream? Give me definite instructions and I'll do my best to carry them out. I'm afraid I can't get off, so you'll have to take someone else, or incarnadine the seas by yourself.

Yours as ever, GARRY.

DEAR GARRY,—Sorry to hear you can't come. Any kind of a boat that will go without bouncing too high will do, and if it has a rudder, a couple of starboard tacks, bath and butler's pantry so much the better. I mean to wash out the memory of those nine months at Basra last year with the flies.

Yours, ALEC.

DEAR ALEC,—What you want, my lad, is a houseboat, and I doubt whether you'll get one during this shortage of residential property.

I should try fishing if I were you. In fact I have taken a bit of water for you in Chamshire. I haven't seen it, but am told it's very all right and only twenty pounds till the 10th of June.

Yours ever, GARRY NORTON.

DEAR GARRY,—This is a top-hole place. To have got this water for so little you 're absolutely the Senior Wangler.

You might send me some mayflies, old dear; about half a pint I shall want, judging from the infernal number of bushes on the river banks here. Mr. MILLS's bombs have put me right off my cast and I can't do the old Shimmy shake either somehow. I can hear the click of croquet balls in the Vicarage garden as I write, so the hooping season has begun.

There's one other chap staying in the pub. Talks and dresses like a War profiteer. Seems to be doing nothing but loafing about at present.

Yours ever, ALEC.

Postcard.

Have ordered the mayflies and will send them soon as poss. G. N.

DEAR GARRY,—Thanks for yours. Not so anxious about mayflies now, but should be glad if you would send me a pound or two of the best chocolates. Having good sport.

In haste for post,

Yours, ALEC.

DEAR ALEC,—I enclose a couple of pounds of extra special chocolates, but didn't know they were included in the Angler's Pharmacopoeia.

Glad you are having good sport and justifying my choice of water.

Yours as usual, GARRY.

DEAR GARRY,—Thanks for chocs. The Vicar called the other day, and I have caught several cups of tea on the recoil at the Vicarage since. Miss Stevenson, his ewe-lamb, is A1, and we have had some splendid sport together. We caught eleven beauties yesterday; one was over 19-1/2 inches.

Post just going out.

Yours in haste, ALEC.

P.S.—Another couple of pounds of chocs would be useful.

DEAR ALEC,—-Awfully glad to hear the fishing is so good. I shall expect a brace of good long trout for breakfast one of these days.

Yours, GARRY.

DEAR GARRY,—Who said anything about fish? I sub-let the water (at a profit) to the War-profiteer three days after arriving.

Miss Stevenson, with a brace of bouncing terriers, is outside whistling for me, so I must put the lid on.

Yours, ALEC.

DEAR ALEC,—What's the idea? You say you let the fishing a fortnight ago; but last Wednesday you wrote about catching eleven beauties, one over nineteen and a half inches long. Some trout—what? But why the terriers?

Yours in darkness,

GARRY NORTON.

"When Greek Joins Greek.""The Red Cross announces that the repatriation of Greeks forcibly removed from their homes in Eastern Macedonia has been virtually completed despite Bulgarian opposition. The reports says the Greek Red Cross rendered invaluable aid in looting imprisoned Greeks hidden remotely."—Egyptian Gazette.

"The Red Cross announces that the repatriation of Greeks forcibly removed from their homes in Eastern Macedonia has been virtually completed despite Bulgarian opposition. The reports says the Greek Red Cross rendered invaluable aid in looting imprisoned Greeks hidden remotely."—Egyptian Gazette.

When first I joined the R.N.V.And ventured out upon the sea,The war-tried Subs. R.N. and LootiesWho guided me about my dutiesWere wont to wink and chuckle ifI found the going rather stiff;And when, upon the Nor'-East Rough,My legs proved scarcely firm enoughTo keep me yare and head-to-windThe very nicest of them grinned.Now times are changed, and here I amOnce more beside the brimming Cam,Where lo, those selfsame Loots and SubsWhirl madly by in punts and tubs,Which they propel by strength of willAnd muscle rather more than skill.For (if one may be fairly frank)They barge across from bank to bank,With zig-zag motions, in and out,As though torpedoes were about;Whilst I with all an expert's easeGlide by as gaily as you please,Or calmly, 'mid the rout of punts,Perform accomplished super-stunts.But do not think I jibe or jeerHowever strangely they career.In soothing accents, sweet as spice,I offer them my best advice,Or deftly show them how to plant aPropulsive pole in oozy Granta,Observing, "If you only knew itThisis the proper way to do it;"Till soon each watching Looty's faceGrows full of wonder at my grace,And daring Subs in frail Rob RoysAttempt to imitate my poise.O war-tried Loots and Subs. R.N.,Thus by the Cam we meet again;And, as in wilder sterner days,We shared the ocean's dreary waysIn fellowship of single aim,I never doubt we'll do the sameBy sunny Cam in happier times;And therefore, if through these my rhymesSome gentle banter slyly flits,Forgive me, Sirs—and call it quits.

When first I joined the R.N.V.

And ventured out upon the sea,

The war-tried Subs. R.N. and Looties

Who guided me about my duties

Were wont to wink and chuckle if

I found the going rather stiff;

And when, upon the Nor'-East Rough,

My legs proved scarcely firm enough

To keep me yare and head-to-wind

The very nicest of them grinned.

Now times are changed, and here I amOnce more beside the brimming Cam,Where lo, those selfsame Loots and SubsWhirl madly by in punts and tubs,Which they propel by strength of willAnd muscle rather more than skill.For (if one may be fairly frank)They barge across from bank to bank,With zig-zag motions, in and out,As though torpedoes were about;Whilst I with all an expert's easeGlide by as gaily as you please,Or calmly, 'mid the rout of punts,Perform accomplished super-stunts.

Now times are changed, and here I am

Once more beside the brimming Cam,

Where lo, those selfsame Loots and Subs

Whirl madly by in punts and tubs,

Which they propel by strength of will

And muscle rather more than skill.

For (if one may be fairly frank)

They barge across from bank to bank,

With zig-zag motions, in and out,

As though torpedoes were about;

Whilst I with all an expert's ease

Glide by as gaily as you please,

Or calmly, 'mid the rout of punts,

Perform accomplished super-stunts.

But do not think I jibe or jeerHowever strangely they career.In soothing accents, sweet as spice,I offer them my best advice,Or deftly show them how to plant aPropulsive pole in oozy Granta,Observing, "If you only knew itThisis the proper way to do it;"Till soon each watching Looty's faceGrows full of wonder at my grace,And daring Subs in frail Rob RoysAttempt to imitate my poise.

But do not think I jibe or jeer

However strangely they career.

In soothing accents, sweet as spice,

I offer them my best advice,

Or deftly show them how to plant a

Propulsive pole in oozy Granta,

Observing, "If you only knew it

Thisis the proper way to do it;"

Till soon each watching Looty's face

Grows full of wonder at my grace,

And daring Subs in frail Rob Roys

Attempt to imitate my poise.

O war-tried Loots and Subs. R.N.,Thus by the Cam we meet again;And, as in wilder sterner days,We shared the ocean's dreary waysIn fellowship of single aim,I never doubt we'll do the sameBy sunny Cam in happier times;And therefore, if through these my rhymesSome gentle banter slyly flits,Forgive me, Sirs—and call it quits.

O war-tried Loots and Subs. R.N.,

Thus by the Cam we meet again;

And, as in wilder sterner days,

We shared the ocean's dreary ways

In fellowship of single aim,

I never doubt we'll do the same

By sunny Cam in happier times;

And therefore, if through these my rhymes

Some gentle banter slyly flits,

Forgive me, Sirs—and call it quits.

From a club journal:—

"Members will look forward to the River Trip this year as a change from a Trip to the River."

This constant craving for variety is one of the most unhealthy symptoms of the times in which we live.

From a report of the debate on the National Shipyards:—

"'The Mercantile Marine was our weakest front. If the sinking increased our unbiblical cord would be cut' (a graphic phrase this)."—Provincial Paper.

Graphic, perhaps, but hardly stenographic.

NOW, SONNY, IF YOU'VE 'AD A GOOD REST WE'LL SET OFF AGAIN.Poacher (to gamekeeper who has been chasing him for twenty minutes)."NOW, SONNY, IF YOU'VE 'AD A GOOD REST WE'LL SET OFF AGAIN."

Poacher (to gamekeeper who has been chasing him for twenty minutes)."NOW, SONNY, IF YOU'VE 'AD A GOOD REST WE'LL SET OFF AGAIN."

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

MR. E.F. BENSON, seizing occasion as it flies, has given us, inAcross the Stream(MURRAY), a story on the very topical subject of spiritualism and communication with the dead. As a practised novelist, with a touch so sure that it can hardly fail to adorn, he has made a tale that is interesting throughout and here and there aspires to real beauty of feeling; though not all the writer's skill can disguise a certain want of unity in the natural and supernatural divisions of his theme. The early part of the book, which tells of the boyhood ofArchieand the attempts of his dead brotherMartinto "get through" to him, are admirably done. As always in these studies of happy and guarded childhood, Mr. BENSON is at his best, sympathetic, tender, altogether winning. There was lung trouble inArchie'srecord—Martinindeed had died of it (sometimes I wonder whether any of Mr. BENSON'S protagonists can ever be wholly robust), and there is a genuine thrill in the scene at the Swiss sanatorium, where the dead and living boys touch hands over the littlecacheof childish treasure buried by the former beneath a pine-tree in the garden. Later, whenArchiehad recovered from his disease and grown to suitor's estate, I could not but feel, despite the sardonically observed figure ofHelena, the detestable girl who nearly ruins him, that the whole affair had become conventional, and by so much lost interest for its creator. Apart, however, from the bogie chapters of Possession (which I shall not further indicate) the most moving scenes in this latter part are those betweenArchieand his father. I have seldom known a horrible situation handled with more delicate art; it is for this, rather than for its slightly unconvincing devilments, that I would give the book an honourable place in the ranks of Bensonian romance.

I quite agree with Mr. HAROLD BEGBIE, whoseMr. Sterling Sticks it Out(HEADLEY) is a generous attempt to put into the form of a story the case of the conscientious objector of the finest type, that, when we are able to think about this matter calmly, we shall have considerable misgivings at least about details in our treatment of this difficult problem. I also agree that the officials of the Press Bureau don't come at all well out of the correspondence which he prints in his preface, and, further, that the Government ought to have had the courage to alter the law allowing absolute exemption rather than stretch it beyond the breaking point. But I emphatically dispute his assumption that the matter was a simple one. It was not the saintly, single-minded and sweet-natured C.O.'s ofChristopher Sterling'stype that made the chief difficulty. There were few of this literal interpretation and heroic texture. The real difficulty was created by men of a very different character and in much greater numbers, sincere in varying degrees, but deliberately, passionately and unscrupulously obstructive, bent on baulking the national will and making anything like reasonable treatment of them impossible. It would require saints, not men, to deal without occasional lapses from strict equity with such infuriating folk. Mr. BEGBIE'S book is unfair in its emphasis, but it is notfanatical or subversive, and I can see no decent reason why it should have been banned. I certainly commend it to the majority-minded as a wholesome corrective.

That the reviewer should finish his study of the assembled biographies of twenty-four fallen heroes of this War with a feeling of disappointment and some annoyance argues a fault in the biographer or in the reviewer. I invite the reader to be the judge between us, forThe New Elizabethans(LANE) must certainly be read, if only to understand clearly that there is no fault in the heroes, at any rate. Mr. E.B. OSBORN describes them as "these golden lads ... who first conquered their easier selves and secondly led the ancestral generations into a joyous captivity" (whatever that may mean), and maintains, against the father of one of them apparently, that he is apt in the title he has given to them and to their countless peers. I agree with the father and think they deserve a new name of their own; such men as the GRENFELL brothers, HUGH and JOHN CHARLTON and DONALD HANKEY did more than maintain a tradition. There is about DIXON SCOTT, "the Joyous Critic," something, I think, which will be recognised as marking a production and a surprise of our own generation—the "ink-slinger" who, when it came to the point, was found equally reckless and brave in slinging more dangerous matter. Again, I feel that there is needed a clearer motive than is apparent to warrant "a selection of the lives of young men who have fallen in the great war." Selections in this instance are more odious than comparisons; there should be one book for one hero. Thirdly, I disapprove the dedication to the Americans; and, lastly, I found in the author's prose a certain affectation that is unworthy of the subject-matter. An instance is the reference to HARRY BUTTERS' "joyous" quotation of the quatrain:—

Every day that passesFilling out the yearLeaves the wicked KaiserHarder up for beer.

Every day that passes

Filling out the year

Leaves the wicked Kaiser

Harder up for beer.

I like the quatrain, of course; who, knowing the "Incorrigibles," doesn't? But I did not like that reiterated word "joyous."

I should certainly have supposed that recent history had discounted popular interest in the monarchies of make-believe; in other words, that when real sovereigns have been behaving in so sensational a manner one might expect a slump in counterfeits. But it appears that Mr. H.B. MARRIOTT WATSON is by no means of this opinion. His latest story,The Pester Finger(SKEFFINGTON), shows him as Ruritanian as ever. As usual we find that distressful country, here calledVaravia, in the throes of dynastic upheaval, which centres, in a manner also not without precedent, in the figure of a young and beautiful Princess. This lady, the last of her race, had been adopted as ward—on, I thought, insufficient introduction—by the hero,Sir Francis Vyse. The situation was further complicated by the fact that in his youth he had been the officer of the guard who ought to have prevented the murder ofSonia'saugust parents, and didn't. Quite early I gave up counting how many timesSir Francisand his fair ward were set upon, submerged, imprisoned and generally knocked about. You never saw so convulsed a courtship; for I will no longer conceal the fact that, when he was not more strenuously engaged, he soon began to regardSoniawith a softening eye. And asSoniaherself was growing up to womanhood, or, in Mr. WATSON'S elegant phrase, "muliebrity claimed her definitely"—well, he is an enviable reader for whom the last page will hold any considerable surprise.

"ETIENNE," in an introductory note toA Naval Lieutenant, 1914-1918(METHUEN), gives an excellent reason for wishing to record his impressions of the "sea affair." He was inH.M.S. Southamptonduring the earlier part of the War, and "on all the four principal occasions when considerable German forces were encountered in the North Sea, her guns were in action." Very naturally he desired to do honour to this gallant light cruiser, and I admire prodigiously the modest way in which he has done it. "ETIENNE" is not a stylist; a professor of syntax might conceivably be distressed by his confusion of prepositions; but apart from this detail all is plain sailing—and fighting. I have read no more thrilling account of the Battle of Jutland than is to be found here. The author does it so well because he tells his story with great simplicity and without what I believe he would call "windiness." Best of all, he has a nice sense of humour, and would even, I believe, have discovered the funny side of Scapa, if there had been one. "ETIENNE," whose short stories of naval life were amusing, makes a distinct advance in this new work.

GOLF IN SPRINGTIME.

Merry little baa-lambs sporting on the grass,Playing ring-a-roses, dancing as you pass,Crying,"Jones has topped his brassie shot! What a way to play!Now then, all together, boys—Me-e-eh!"Pretty little woollies, white as driven snow,Following your mothers, skipping as you go,Crying,"Jones is in the bunker! What a lot he has to say!Give it all together, boys—Me-e-e-eh!"Harbingers of Springtime! innocently fair,Frisking on the greensward, leaping in the air,Crying,"Jones is in the whins again! He's off his drive to-day;Once more let him have it, boys—Me-e-e-e-eh!"Silly little baa-lambs! If you only knew,One day you'll be fatter and I'll have the laugh on you,Crying,"Every time I foozled they bleated with delight.Now they're lamb-and-mint-sauce. Serves the beggars right!"ALGOL.

Merry little baa-lambs sporting on the grass,

Playing ring-a-roses, dancing as you pass,

Crying,

"Jones has topped his brassie shot! What a way to play!

Now then, all together, boys—Me-e-eh!"

Pretty little woollies, white as driven snow,

Following your mothers, skipping as you go,

Crying,

"Jones is in the bunker! What a lot he has to say!

Give it all together, boys—Me-e-e-eh!"

Harbingers of Springtime! innocently fair,

Frisking on the greensward, leaping in the air,

Crying,

"Jones is in the whins again! He's off his drive to-day;

Once more let him have it, boys—Me-e-e-e-eh!"

Silly little baa-lambs! If you only knew,

One day you'll be fatter and I'll have the laugh on you,

Crying,

"Every time I foozled they bleated with delight.

Now they're lamb-and-mint-sauce. Serves the beggars right!"

ALGOL.

BORROWED THUNDER.BORROWED THUNDER."WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY HANGING ON BEHIND ME LIKE THAT?""I'VE BROKEN MY HORN, OLD TOFF, AND I THOUGHT YOU COULD TOOT FOR TWO."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY HANGING ON BEHIND ME LIKE THAT?"

"I'VE BROKEN MY HORN, OLD TOFF, AND I THOUGHT YOU COULD TOOT FOR TWO."

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