ewent, claims that Gloucestershire cheese is
as good as any made in England. He omits, however, to state whether
these cheeses make good pets and are fond of children.

***

Paper-covered books are foreshadowed by the Publishers' Association,
and it is rumoured that in order to conserve the paper supply Mr.
CHARLES GARVICE has decided that in future he will not write more than
two novels per week.

***

We resent the suggestion that the public is not prepared to accept
"substitutes." Only the other day a man rushed into a London _cafe_,
asked if they had any prussic acid, and, when told that they never
kept it, remarked, "Very well. Bring me a pork pie."

***

Three hundred fishing-rods have been sent to the Mesopotamia Field
Force. No request was forwarded for flies.

***

Dealing with IBSEN'S _Ghosts_ at the Kingsway Theatre, the critic of a
halfpenny morning paper refers to it as a "medley of weird psychopathy
and symbolism." Just as if he were writing for a penny paper.

***

A woman at West London Police Court has been sentenced for
"masquerading as a man." Several conscientious objectors are now
getting very nervous on sighting a policeman.

***

Only egg-laying hens will be permitted to survive under the new
regulations of the Board of Agriculture. Villagers who in the past
have made a nice thing out of training hens to get run over by motor
cars will be hard hit.

***

Now that racing has been prohibited it is unlikely that the Slate Club
Secretaries' Sprinting Handicaps will be held this year.

* * * * *

[Illustration: "NO, DEAR, I'M AFRAID WE SHAN'T BE AT THE DANCE
TO-NIGHT. POOR HERBERT HAS GOT A TOUCH OF ALLOTMENT FEET."]

* * * * *

STOMACH FOR THE FIGHT.

O not because my taste for bread
Tended to make me much too stout,
And all the leading doctors said
I should be better far without;
Not that my health may be more rude,
More svelte my rounded style of beauty,
I sacrifice this staple food--
But from a sense of duty!

I "can no other" when I think
Of how the Hun, docile and meek,
Suffers his ravenous maw to shrink,
And only strikes, say, once a week;
If he for all these months has stood
The sorry fare they feed the brute on,
I hope that I can be as good
A patriot as your Teuton.

Henceforth I spurn the d