to suit me! This is Paradise."

So we adventured to the topmost hill,
And, when the sunset shot the sky with red,
Homeward returned and found you taking still
Deep draughts of peace with pillows 'neath your head.
"His sleep," said one, "has been unduly long."
Another said, "Let's bring and beat the gong."

"Gongs," said a third and gazed with looks intent
At the full sofa, "are not adequate.
There fits some dread, some heavy, punishment
For one who sleeps with such a dreadful weight.
Behold with me," he moaned, "a scene accurst.
The springs are broken and the sofa's burst!"

Too true! Too true! Beneath you on the floor
Lay blent in ruin all the obscure things
That were the sofa's strength, a scattered store
Of tacks and battens and protruded springs.
Through the rent ticking they had all been spilt,
Mute proofs and mournful of your weight and guilt.

And you? You slept as sweetly as a child,
And when you woke you recked not of your shame,
But babbled greetings, stretched yourself and smiled
From that eviscerated sofa's frame,
Which, flawless erst, was now one mighty flaw
Through the addition of yourself as straw.

R.C.L.

* * * * *

"A really acceptable present for a lady is a nice piece
of artificial hair, as, when not absolutely necessary, it
is always useful and ornamental."--_Advt. in "Aberdeen
Free Press."_

Still, it might be misunderstood.

* * * * *

"Theologians and mystics might say, 'Is that not mere
anthropomrhpism?'"--_Mr. BALFOUR according to "The Daily
Mail."_

But a Welshman would say it best.

* * * * *

"An aggressive minority succeeded in showing that the
Little Navy-ites do not represent the bulk of public
opinion."--_Daily Express_.

It is, of course, always the aggressive minority which really
represents the bulk of public opinion.

* * * * *

A BYGONE.

When I see the white-haired and venerable Thompson standing behind my
equally white-haired but much less venerable father at dinner, exuding
an atmosphere of worth and uprightness and checking by his mere silent
presence the more flippant tendencies of our conversation; when I hear
him whisper into my youthful son's ear, "Sherry, Sir?" in the voice of
a tolerant teetotaler who would not force