a War interest, and every one
is the better for looking at some pictures. Nothing is so elevating as
the constant spectacle of young women with insufficient noses."

"Marvellous!" exclaimed the editor. "But what of the War itself?"

"Ah, yes, I was coming to that," the young man went on. "I have a strong
conviction--I may be wrong, but I think not--that war-pictures are
popular, and I have noticed that one soldier astonishingly resembles
another. This is a priceless discovery, as I will show. I would
therefore get all the groups of soldiers that I could take in open
country wherever it was most convenient to my operator, and I would
label them according to recent events. For example, I would call one
group--and understand that they would all have non-committal
backgrounds--'A wayside chat near Salonica'; another, 'A Tommy narrating
the story of his escape from a Jack Johnson'; a third, 'A hurried lunch
somewhere in France'; a fourth, 'How the new group of Lord DERBY'S men
will look after a few weeks'; a fifth, 'Our brave lads leaving Flanders
on short leave'; and so on."

"But you are a genius!" exclaimed the editor, surprised into enthusiasm.

"As for the rest of the pictures," said the applicant, "I have perhaps
peculiar views, but I hold that they ought to be photographs of Members
of Parliament walking to or from the House of Commons, a profoundly
interesting phase of modern life too little touched upon; photographs of
the _fiancees_ of soldiers, of whom it does not matter if no one had
ever heard before, engagements being of the highest importance,
especially at a time when marriage is a state duty. So much for the
staple of the picture-page, which I trust you do not consider too
daring."

"Daring, perhaps," said the editor, "but not excessively so, and one
must be both nowadays. One must innovate."

"And then," pursued the youth, "for padding--though padding of course
only to the experts, not to the great hungry asinine public--anything
can be rendered serviceable provided that the words beneath are adroit
enough. Thus, a view of Westminster Abbey would be 'The architectural
jewel of England which the Zeppelins have in vain tried to bomb'; a view
of Victoria Station, 'The terminus at which every day and night,
thousands of homing Tommies are welcomed'; any picture of a dog or cat
or canary or parrot would bear a legend to the effect that all our brave
lads love pets and are never so happy as when accompanied