ought to have recognised
at once, instead of foolishly exploiting a fancied grievance.

Yours farinaceously,

JOSIAH VEDGELEY.

THE OLD COMPLAINT.

SIR,--Some sixty years ago I was rebuked by my father for addressing him as
"Governor." Thirty years later I was seriously offended with my own son for
calling me an "old mug." He in turn, though not by any means a learned man,
has within the last few weeks been irritated by his school-boy son
derisively addressing him as an "old dud." The duel between fathers and
sons is as old as the everlasting hills, and the rebels of one generation
become the fogeys of the next. I have no doubt that in moments of expansion
the young Marcellus alluded to his august parent as "_faba antiqua_."

Yours faithfully,

SENEX.

A TRIPLE LIFE.

SIR,--As a middle-aged mother I do not appeal for your sympathy, I merely
wish to describe my position, the difficulties of which might no doubt be
paralleled in hundreds of other households. I have three children whose
characteristics may be thus briefly summarised:--

(1) Pamela, aged nineteen, is an ultra-modern young woman. She hates
politics of all shades, but adores SCRIABINE, STRAVINSKY and BENEDETTO
CROCE. She smokes cigars, wears male attire and has a perfect command of
the art of ornamental objurgation.

(2) Gerald, aged twenty-three, is war-weary; resentful of all authority;
"bored stiff" by any music save of the syncopated brand, and he divides his
time between Jazz-dancing with the dismal fervour of a gloomy dean and
attending meetings of pro-Bolshevist extremists.

(3) Anthony, aged twenty-six, is a soldier, a "regular"; restrained in
speech, somewhat old-fashioned in his tastes. This summer he spent his
leave fishing in Scotland and took with him two books--the _Life of
Stonewall Jackson_ and the _Bible_. It is hardly necessary to add that
Gerald is not on speaking terms with him.

As for myself, while anxious to keep in touch with my wayward brood, I find
the strain of accommodating myself to their varied requirements almost more
than I can stand. Pamela can only endure my companionship on the conditions
that I smoke (which makes me ill); that I emulate the excesses of her lurid
lingo (which makes me squirm), and that I paint my face (which makes me
look like a modern Messalina, which I am not). Gerald is prepared to accept
me as a "pal," provided that I play David to his Saul by regaling him on
Sunday mornings with negroid