dingnagian act_--"

"--_of brachycephalic brutality_, Sir. But that was not original."

"If you can't be original yourself," said the Colonel kindly, "the
next best thing is to quote from those who can."

"That's what I thought, Sir."

"Ha! Well, of course the writers' anonymity must be observed--that's
a point of honour. Still, I think, Williams--I have been asked to
recommend an intelligent officer for a staff appointment--that if I
were to name _you_ I should not go far wrong. And--er--if you are ever
asked for an opinion of the destruction of Ypres--"

"I shall remember to give the reference, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

W.B.

* * * * *

A TROPICAL TRAGEDY.

On the tesselated slopes
Of the Isle of Tapioca,
Where the azure antelopes
Haunt the valley of Avoca,
Dwelt the maid Opoponax,
Only child of Brex Koax,
Far renowned in song and saga,
Ruler of ten million blacks,
Emperor of Larranaga.

She could play the loud jamboon
With a fervour corybantic;
She could hurl the macaroon
Far into the mid-Atlantic;
More self-helpful than a SMILES,
She could ride on crocodiles,
Catch the fleetest flying-fishes;
She could cook, like EUSTACE MILES,
Wondrous vegetarian dishes.

In the cool of eventide,
Gracefully festooned with myrtle,
In her sampan she would glide
Forth to spear the snapping turtle;
And her voice was blinding sweet,
Piercing as the parrakeet,
Fruity as old Manzanilla,
With a _soupcon_ of the bleat
Of the African gorilla.

Eligible swains in shoals,
Victims to her fascination,
Toasted her in flowing bowls
Far beyond all computation;
There was valorous Hupu,
Xingalong and Timbalu,
And the peerless Popocotl,
Who had gained a triple blue
For his prowess with the bottle.

But Opoponax, whose mind
Soared above her native tutors,
Imperturbably declined
All these brave and dusky suitors.
Finally she hailed a tramp
And, contriving to decamp
To the shores of Patagonia,
Finding them too chill and damp,
Perished of acute pneumonia.

In an even darker doom
Tapioca's greatness ended,
For her father to the tomb
By swift leaps and bounds descended;
Xingalong and Timbalu
Both were slaughtered by Hupu,
Who was slain by Popocotl,
Who himself soon after slew
With an empty whisky bottle.

Every tale, we often he