HALL CAINE has not yet spoken on this
point, and his silence is regarded as significant.

***

Incidentally we are not so sure that you cannot stop wheat growing on
Sundays. There is good precedent for plucking its ears on the Sabbath, and
that ought to stop it.

***

The KAISER, it appears, is much annoyed at the CROWN PRINCE and the way he
has mis-managed so many brilliant opportunities. It is even suggested in
some quarters that the KAISER has threatened, if LITTLE WILLIE does not
improve, to abdicate in his favour.

***

A respectably dressed man was recently arrested for behaving in a strange
manner in Downing Street. Others have done the same thing before now, but
have escaped the notice of the police by doing it indoors.

***

With reference to the taxi-cab which stopped in the Strand the other day
when hailed by a pedestrian, a satisfactory explanation is to hand. It had
broken down.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Overheard by a distinguished singer, who has just concluded
the first of two Scotch ballads._

_Jock (to his neighbour)._ "A FINE VOICE, YON LASSIE. I'VE HEARD WORSE AN'
PAID FOR IT."]

* * * * *

TO PARIS BY THE "HINDENBURG LINE."

A TEUTON TRIBUTE TO THE ORGANISER OF VICTORY.

That man at dawn should certainly be shot
For being such a liar,
Who says that you, my HINDENBURG, are not
As high as our All-Highest, mate of GOTT
(Or even slightly higher).

Stout thruster, in the push you have no peer,
Yet more supremely brilliant
This crowning stroke of progress toward the rear,
This strong recoil from which with heartened cheer
We hope to bound resilient.

Lo! the creative spirit's vital spark!
None but a genius, _we_ say,
Would make his onset backward in the dark
Or choose this route for getting at the Arc
De Triomphe (Champs Elysees).

Nor to your care for detail are we blind;
Your handiwork we view in
The reeking waste our warriors leave behind;
We read the motions of a master-mind
In that red trail of ruin.

And not alone by yonder blackened beams,
By garth and homestead burning,
You put the sanguine enemy off your schemes,
Who gaily follows up and never dreams
That we'll be soon returning;

But by these speaking signs of godly hate,
This ruthless ravage (_prosit!_),
You teach a barbarous world how trul