ildly. "But observe."

Somewhat diffidently he removed his collar and held it up to view.
"You call this a clean, white, shiny collar? Well, it's not.
Fawn-colour, if you like; speckled--yes; but white--clean? No! Believe
me," continued Mr. Bingley-Spyker, warming to his subject, "it's years
since I've had a genuinely clean collar from my laundry. Mostly they
are speckled. And the specks are usually in a conspicuous position;
one on each wing is a favourite combination. I grant you these can be
removed by a penknife, but imperfectly and with damage to the fabric.
When what I may call the main portion of the collar is affected, the
speckled area may occasionally be concealed by a careful disposition
of one's tie. But not often. The laundress, with diabolical cunning,
takes care to place her trade-mark as near the top rim as possible.
I have not by any means exhausted the subject," he concluded, "but I
think I have said enough to clear myself of this particular charge."

It seemed then to Mr. Bingley-Spyker that all the members of the
Tribunal were shouting together. On the whole he gathered that he had
not improved his position. He had been "attacking the proletariat."

"'Ard-working gyurls," panted a woman-member excitedly, "toilin' and
moilin' at wash-tubs and mangles for the likes of 'im! It's a rope
collar he wants, Mr. President. Make it a 'anging matter, I should."

"Silence, comrades!" commanded the President. "Let me deal with 'im.
Prisoner, the Tribunal finds you guilty of wearing a collar,
contrary to the regulations. Collars are the 'all-marks of a slave
civilization; they 'ave no place in a free state. The sentence of the
Court is that you be committed to a State laundry for ten years, with
'ard labour, principally at mangles. Remove the prisoner."

So they removed Mr. Bingley-Spyker....

He was glad when he woke up to find himself in his own room in his
own Government office at Whitehall, with the afternoon sun streaming
deliciously through the windows. Involuntarily he felt for his collar.

* * * * *

THE HANWELLIAD.

When I come into my kingdom, which will happen very soon,
I shall ride a milk-white palfrey from the Mountains of the Moon;
He's caparisoned and costly, but he did his bit of work
In a bridle set with brilliants, which he used to beat the Turk.

Then they called their Uncle Edward and they blew without a check,
Keeping time with much precis