e of which is secured by a long window
filled with leaded lights of opalescent glass (in order that the
Hilary-Tompkins next door, who have two servants, may not grow too
ribald). On the western wall is a rich mosaic depicting Hercules
cleansing the Augean stable, and below this a fountain of clear limpid
water, warmed to at least twenty over grease-proof, gushes forth and
flows in a pellucid stream, between banks of marble, to the eastern
end of the chamber. At the fountain head reclines Euphemia, my wife,
arrayed and fructed proper, who leisurely drops the crockery into the
stream. At the other end of the room, seated in a "profound chair" by
the estuary, where the waters of the River Plate fall into the Sink
Basin, behold me lazily watching the cups and platters as they glide
gently down the rippling flood towards me, dexterously fishing
out each fresh arrival and depositing it in a hot-air receptacle
conveniently placed for its accommodation.

Such, I say, is the scullery of my dreams, in which the washing up of
a nine-hole-course dinner would be as pleasant as a round of golf.
No unsightly pots, pans, brooms, tins or other junk pollute the
apartment; they are in the dream ante-chamber, to be hereinafter
described or not, if the Editor sees fit. [ED.--He does not see fit.]

* * * * *

Shakspeare and Mr. Charles Chaplin.

Mr. CHARLES CHAPLIN writes from Los Angeles protesting against the
allegation, made in our issue of March 31st, that "he does not like
SHAKSPEARE." Mr. Punch cannot accept responsibility for a statement
quoted from the report of an interview, but he has no hesitation in
expressing his profound regret for any wrong that he has inadvertently
done both to Mr. CHAPLIN and SHAKSPEARE.

* * * * *

THE GREAT DIVORCE QUESTION.

When I week-end with people I like them to be tactful. I thought
Mrs. Benham lacked the tact essential to a hostess when she said, "We
breakfast at half-past nine on Sundays. That will give us all
ample time to get to church." She never seemed to contemplate the
possibility of my having a Sunday morning indisposition.

Now there is no virtue in compulsory church-going, but as I was for it
I accepted my fate cheerfully. I walked with Benham across the park to
the church. He is the adopted Candidate for the division, and he took
the opportunity of rehearsing to me a speech he was preparing which
showed up Bolshevis