that Cyclops himself couldn't digest. The old cynic was found
floating, scarred belly upwards, on the surface of the water.

The mess-waiter took charge of the _post-mortem_. Like the _Duke of
Plaza Toro_, he "likes an interment" and rarely misses a last rite.
A keen fisherman, he had little difficulty in extracting an exhibit
for the Court's inspection, which he unhesitatingly pronounced to be
a diamond ring in an advanced state of decomposition.

The mess-cook, on the other hand, identified the relic as the
stopping, recently mislaid, from one of his back teeth.

In any case there seems little room for doubt that a Hun airman has
avenged the long-dead lady.

* * * * *

[Illustration: ENIGMA.

POLICEMAN (_on duty at St. Stephen's_). "STAND ASIDE, PLEASE."

MR. PUNCH. "WHAT'S HAPPENING?"

POLICEMAN. "PARLIAMENT REASSEMBLING."

MR. PUNCH. "WHY?"]

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Ex-Bus-driver (in difficulties in the roadless zone)._
"'ERE'S OLE PICCADILLY UP AGIN--FAIR IN THE 'IGHTH OF THE SEASON."]

* * * * *

THE MUD LARKS.

All the world has marvelled at "the irrepressible good humour" of old
Atkins. Every distinguished tripper who comes Cook's-touring to the
Front for a couple of days devotes at least a chapter of his resultant
book to it. "How in thunder does Thomas do it?" they ask. "What the
mischief does he find to laugh at?" Listen.

Years ago, when the well-known War was young, a great man sat in
his sanctum exercising his grey matter. Ho said to himself, "There
is a War on. Men, amounting to several, will be prised loose from
comfortable surroundings and condemned to get on with it for the term
of their unnatural lives. They will be shelled, gassed, mined and
bombed, smothered in mud, worked to the bone, bored stiff and scared
silly. Fatigues will be unending, rations short, rum diluted, reliefs
late and leave nil. Their girls will forsake them for diamond-studded
munitioneers. Their wives will write saying, 'Little Jimmie has the
mumps; and what about the rent? You aren't spending all of five bob a
week on yourself, are you?' This is but a tithe (or else a tittle) of
the things that will occur to them, and their sunny natures will sour
and sicken if something isn't done about it."

The great man sat up all night chewing penholders and pondering on the
problem. The BIG IDEA came with the end of the eigh