LY CIRCUS.

IN THE HEART OF FASHIONABLE LONDON.

This Hotel, which is one of the deepest in London, is composed of
four magnificent platforms and nearly a mile of finely tessellated
corridors. Electric light. Constant temperature of sixty-five degrees
Fahrenheit. Excellent catering under the control of the Automatic
Machine Company. Reduced terms during moonless nights.

HOTEL HAMPSTEAD TUBE.

Situated in a commanding position, underlooking the Heath, this hotel
is positively the deepest in London. The Management has decided to
extend the accommodation during one week in each month by offering
beds on the steps of the staircase. No one has ever been known to walk
either up or down this staircase, and patrons are therefore assured of
an uninterrupted night's repose. Extremely moderate terms are quoted
for the higher flights.

THE GILLESPIE ARMS.

Ensure an undisturbed night's sleep by putting up at the Gillespie
Road Station Family and Commercial Hotel. Large numbers of trains pass
this station without stopping, and residents are comparatively free
from the annoyance caused by the arrival and departure of passengers.

Special terms for Aliens, who are requested to bring their own
mattresses.

* * * * *

[Illustration: A PLACE IN THE MOON.

HANS. "HOW BEAUTIFUL A MOON, MY LOVE, FOR SHOWING UP ENGLAND TO OUR
GALLANT AIRMEN!"

GRETCHEN. "YES, DEAREST, BUT MAY IT NOT SHOW UP THE FATHERLAND TO THE
BRUTAL ENEMY ONE OF THESE NIGHTS?"]

* * * * *

CODES.

It began like the noise of rushing water, and for a moment the Brigade
Major hoped that somebody had taken it upon himself to wash the
orderly. The noise, however, was followed by a succession of thumps
which put an end to this pretty flight of fancy. Aghast he surveyed
the scene before him. Close to the Brigade Headquarters' dug-out was
an old French dump of every conceivable kind of explosive made up into
every known form of projectile. No longer was it a picture of Still
Life. The Sleeping Beauty was awake indeed. The Prince had come in the
form of a common whizz-bang.

As he looked (and ducked) a flock of aerial torpedoes, propelled by
the explosion of one of their number, rose and scattered as if at the
approach of a hostile sportsman. Another explosion blew what seemed to
be a million rockets sizzling into the air.

The store was on fire!

The Brigade Major retired.
* *