new.

FRIDAY.

Fighting in centre; German loss immense;
Our casualties, it seems, were very few.
All up the left wing Germans very dense;
May they remain so! Right wing, nothing new.

SATURDAY.

In some few places we have given ground;
In several others we have broken through.
Our left is still by way of working round,
And on our right wing there is nothing new.

SUNDAY.

On our left wing the state of things remains
Unaltered, on a general review.
Our losses in the centre match our gains,
And on our right wing there is nothing new.

L'ENVOI.

So it goes on. But there may come a day
When WILHELM'S cheek assumes a different hue,
And bulletins are rounded off this way:--
"And on the right wing there is something new."

* * * * *

"The prisoner, who was said to be an Indian barrister's window, was
placed on the floor of the Court."--_Edinburgh Evening Dispatch._

The prisoner would have looked better in the roof as a skylight.

* * * * *

"THE DOUBLE MYSTERY."

ACT I.

_Scene:_ _The house of_ Judge Hallers. _Also of_ Mr. ARTHUR BOURCHIER;
_that is to say, The Garrick._

_Doctor Ferrier_ (_professionally_). Now tell me the symptoms. Where do
you feel the pain?

_Judge Hallers._ At the back of the head. I've never been myself since I
fell off my bicycle. My memory goes.

_Ferrier._ Ah, I know what you want. Open your mouth. (_Inserts
thermometer._) This will cure you ... Good heavens, he's swallowed it!

_Hallers._ There you are, that's what I mean. I thought it was asparagus
for the moment. Haven't you another one on you?

_Ferrier._ Tut, tut, this is very singular. (_Makes another effort to
grapple with it._) What books have you been reading lately?

_Hallers._ One about Dual Personality. It's all rubbish.

_Ferrier_ (_quoting from the programme with an air of profound
knowledge_). Cases showing prevalence of this mental disorder are to be
found everywhere. (_Gets up._) Well, well, I will come round to-morrow
with another thermometer. Good night.
[_Exit._

_Hallers._ Dual personality--nonsense! (_A spasm seizes him. He scowls
at the audience, ties a muffler round his neck and loses his identity._)
Gr-r-r-r! Waugh-waugh! Gr-r-r-r-r! Przemysl!
[_Exit growling._

ACT II.

_Scene: "The Lame Duck" cafe, a horrible haunt of depravity._

_Poulard_ (_the Proprietor,