gh the
side of his tumbler, left off so hastily that he was convulsed for
some moments and in the sequel ruined Dr. Blimber's point." He
struggled gallantly, but had in the end to give way to an overwhelming
paroxysm of coughing. It was a good cough, but an isolated one, and
was perhaps, after all, not equal to Binns's.

* * * * *

THE GOOD OLD TIMES.

Captain Reginald Jones _and_ Captain James Smith, _demobilised,
meet accidentally in the waiting-room of a Government office. Their
acquaintanceship had originated in a shell-hole near Plum-Tree Farm in
1916._

_Reggie_. Cheerio, old egg.

_Jimmy_. Same to you. Doing anything?

_Reggie_. Lord, yes! I've been pushed on to the directorate of the
pater's firm.

_Jimmy_. Congrats!

_Reggie_. Stow it, old man; I'm simply worried to death. The whole
cabush is on strike.

_Jimmy_. The blighters! What bunch are they?

_Reggie_. Stone-breakers.

_Jimmy_. Not the stone-breakers, surely?

_Reggie_. Yes, the stone-breakers, perish them!

_Jimmy_. And are you here about it?

_Reggie_. Sure. The junior director gets all the dirty work to do.

_Jimmy_. What a coincidence! I'm on the same stunt, old thing.

_Reggie_. Board of Trade?

_Jimmy_. Rats! Organising secretary of the Stone-breakers' Union.

_Reggie (after, gasp of surprise)._ Lucky devil.

_Jimmy_. Rot! I'd chuck it if I could afford to. Don't you wish
sometimes you were back at Plum-Tree Farm?

_Reggie_. Crumbs, Jimmy; but weren't those the glorious days?

* * * * *

"EX-CROWN PRINCE'S HORSE TO RUN."--_Heading in "The Times_."

Like master like horse.

* * * * *

[Illustration: FOR ENTERPRISING DISPERSAL STATIONS. SPEED UP YOUR
OUTPUT BY INSTALLING THE MOVING-STAIRCASE SYSTEM. NO TIME LOST.
GOVERNMENT SUITS "ASSEMBLED" BY SKILLED WORKMEN IN RECORD TIME.]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks_.)

I SHALL begin by saying straight out that Miss CICELY HAMILTON'S new
book, _William--an Englishman_ (SKEFFINGTON), is one of the finest
war-stories that anyone has yet given us. You know already what
qualities the author brings to her writing; you may believe me
that she has done nothing more real, more nobly conceived, and by
consequence more moving than this short tale. It opens, in a style
of half-humorous irony, with an account of t