is called "Why Is the Fat Woman's Face So Red?" Well,
what else _could_ you call it?

Why is the fat woman's face so red?
Is it because her stays are too tight?
Or because she wants to sneeze and has lost her pocket handkerchief?
Or only because her second son
(The engineer)
Is dying of cancer.
I cannot be certain.
Yet I sit here and ask myself
Wonderingly
Why is the fat woman's face so red?

It is generally recognized that, in Mr. Mott, we have a real poet. There
are loud cries of "Encore!" Mr. Mott shakes his head.

"I have written no more," he says in a deep voice. "I have given you the
result of three years' work. Perhaps--in another three years--" He shrugs
his shoulders and walks gloomingly out.

"Such a sweet idea," says Lady Poldoodle. "I sit here and ask
myself--wonderingly! How true! How very true!"

"I couldn't quite follow it, dear," says her neighbour frankly. "Did he
marry her after all?"

Lord Poldoodle, looking slightly more cheerful, gets once more on to his
legs.

"You will all be very glad to hear--ah--you will all be sorry to hear
that we have only one more poet on our list this afternoon. Mr. Cecil
Willow, the well-known--er--poet."

Mr. Willow, a well-dressed young man, fair and rather stout, and a credit
to any drawing-room, announces the subject of his poem--Liberty.

"Liberty, what crimes have been committed in thy name!" murmurs Lord
Poldoodle to himself.

LIBERTY

There were two thrushes in a tree,
The one was tamed, the other free.
Because his wings were clipped so small
The tame one did not fly at all,
But sang to Heaven all the day--
The other (shortly after) flew away.

There were two women in a town,
The one was blonde, the other brown.
The brown one pleased a Viscount's son
(Not Richard, but the other one)
He gave her a delightful flat--
The blonde one loved a man called Alfred Spratt.

There were two Kings on thrones of gold,
The one was young, the other old.
The young one's laws were wisely made
Till someone took a hand-grenade
And threw it, shouting, "Down with Kings!"--
The old one laid foundation stones and things.

"How delightful," says everybody. "How very delightful. Thank you, Lady
Poldoodle, for such a delightful afternoon."

THE PERILS OF REVIEWING

A most unfortunate thing has happened to a friend of mine called ---- to
a friend of ---- to a ----. Well, I suppose the truth will have to come
out. It happened to me. Only don't tell anybo