, as in wilder sterner days,
We shared the ocean's dreary ways
In fellowship of single aim,
I never doubt we'll do the same
By sunny Cam in happier times;
And therefore, if through these my rhymes
Some gentle banter slyly flits,
Forgive me, Sirs--and call it quits.

* * * * *

From a club journal:--

"Members will look forward to the River Trip this year as a
change from a Trip to the River."

This constant craving for variety is one of the most unhealthy
symptoms of the times in which we live.

* * * * *

From a report of the debate on the National Shipyards:--

"'The Mercantile Marine was our weakest front. If the sinking
increased our unbiblical cord would be cut' (a graphic phrase
this)."--_Provincial Paper_.

Graphic, perhaps, but hardly stenographic.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Poacher (to gamekeeper who has been chasing him for
twenty minutes)._ "NOW, SONNY, IF YOU'VE 'AD A GOOD REST WE'LL SET OFF
AGAIN."]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

_(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.)_

MR. E.F. BENSON, seizing occasion as it flies, has given us, in
_Across the Stream_ (MURRAY), a story on the very topical subject of
spiritualism and communication with the dead. As a practised novelist,
with a touch so sure that it can hardly fail to adorn, he has made a
tale that is interesting throughout and here and there aspires to real
beauty of feeling; though not all the writer's skill can disguise a
certain want of unity in the natural and supernatural divisions of
his theme. The early part of the book, which tells of the boyhood
of _Archie_ and the attempts of his dead brother _Martin_ to "get
through" to him, are admirably done. As always in these studies of
happy and guarded childhood, Mr. BENSON is at his best, sympathetic,
tender, altogether winning. There was lung trouble in _Archie's_
record--_Martin_ indeed had died of it (sometimes I wonder whether any
of Mr. BENSON'S protagonists can ever be wholly robust), and there is
a genuine thrill in the scene at the Swiss sanatorium, where the
dead and living boys touch hands over the little _cache_ of childish
treasure buried by the former beneath a pine-tree in the garden.
Later, when _Archie_ had recovered from his disease and grown to
suitor's estate, I could not but feel, despite the sardonical