dea is to hand to
each entrant a lump of High-brow stickjaw, guaranteed not to dissolve in
less than the stipulated period, and to station a lynx-eyed dentist at the
foot of the stairs....

Hewetson in his simple-minded way also wanted the company to be called the
Holiday-makers' Enjoyment League, or the Society of Art-Dodgers, or some
such name. He even thought the houses should be painted in bright
attractive colours. I pointed out to him that they should be uninviting and
dull in appearance, and that a uniform sobriety, a suggestion of yearning
and uplift, in every feature of the company's appeal would not only allow
thousands of hypocrites, like Angela, to seek relief at our doors, but
would actually confer on people like Hewetson and me a stamp of that same
intellectual passion from whose manifestations we are engaged in escaping.

* * * * *

"SWANSEA AND DISTRICT RUGBY LEAGUE.

CUP FINALS.

Admission: 1s.; Grand Stand, 1s. extra.

(Including Tax).

All Seats Free. No Collection.

Please bring your Bible for reference."

_Welsh Paper._

The Welsh may not, like the English, take their pleasures sadly, but are
evidently expected to take them seriously.

* * * * *

"PARTNERSHIP.--Ex-Regular officer, owing hotel at fashionable spa,
desires to meet lady or gentleman, with capital."--_Daily Paper._

Before replying we should like to know the amount of the bill he owes.

* * * * *

From a short story:--

"Unconscious of the waiter at her elbow with pad and pencil poised for
her order, unconscious also of her husband, now her happy tete-a-tete,
she spoke aloud: 'One never knows!'"--_Monthly Magazine._

How they must have enjoyed their cosy _vis-a-vis_.

* * * * *

BIRD CALLS.

II.

I would not be the tomtit's mate,
For, even if I were not late,
It seems as though he'd gird at me,
Saying, "Quick, quick," eternally.

The chaffinch you would never think
Was much addicted to strong drink,
Yet all the Spring you'll hear him say, "Oh,
There's cheaper beer in County Mayo."

The jay, whatever he is after,
Makes the woods ring with ribald laughter;
"Hee, hee, ha, ha," he says, and then
"Ha, ha, hee, hee, ha, ha," again.

The plover over fields brown red
Weeps