as far
as Ruddiham, but caution is needed at Bashfield Corner, from which
a small band of snipers has not yet been dislodged, though their
ammunition is running short. Passengers should be prepared to use all
the resources of their vocabulary at Bargingham, where the inhabitants
enjoy a well-deserved repute for their command of picturesque
invective. It would be humiliating to the whole charabanc
confraternity if they were to yield their pre-eminence in this branch
of education to a small rural community.

Thanks to the vigilance of the well-armed patrols of the Charabanc
Defence Association the main roads in East Anglia are almost clear
of the enemy. Caution must still be observed in passing through
Garningham at night. One of the hardiest "charabankers" was recently
prostrated in that village by a well-aimed epithet from the oldest
inhabitant. A writer in a Norwich paper recently described the
area within ten miles of Whelksham as "a paradise for baboon-faced
Yahooligans." But these futile ebullitions of malice are powerless to
check the triumphal progress of the charabanc in the Eastern Counties.

But no route at present offers more favourable or exhilarating
opportunities to the high-minded excursionist than the main Gath road
from Scrapston to Kinlarry. Excellent sport is afforded just outside
Stillminster, where Sir John Goodfellow's greenhouses are within easy
bottle-throw of the road and furnish a splendid target. On the
whole, however, it is thought advisable to abstain from saluting
the neighbouring hospital for shell-shock patients with a salvo of
megaphones, local opinion being adverse to such manifestations.

* * * * *

=RHYMES OF THE UNDERGROUND.=

The Ealing trains run frequently,
The Ealing trains run fast;
I stand at Gloucester Road and see
A many hurtling past;
They go to Acton, Turnham Green,
And stations I have never seen,
Simply because my lot has been
In other places cast.

The folk on Ealing trains who ride
They, pitying, bestow
On me a look instinct with pride;
But I would have them know
That, while on Wimbledonian plains
My humble domicile remains,
I HAVE NO USE FOR EALING TRAINS,
Though still they come and go.

* * * * *

Conversation of the moment in a City restaurant:--

REGULAR CUSTOMER (_looking down menu_). "Waiter, why is cottage pie
never on now?"

WAITER. "Well,