al tweak after
seeing the announcement of his splendid and public-spirited action to
help on the War Food scheme.

DEAR OLD BOY (I wrote),--How stupid you must have thought me all this
time! Only when I learnt from the paragraph in this morning's _Surbury
Examiner_ that, in response to the suggestion of the Rural District
Council, you have lent your field to the poor people of the
neighbourhood for growing War Food did I realise the meaning of the
dulcet-toned donkey's presence in your field.

The growing of more food at the present time is an absolute necessity,
but it was left to you to discover this novel method of proclaiming to
Surbury that here in its midst was land waiting to be put to really
useful purpose.

I do not know which to admire the more, your patriotism or the
ingenuity displayed in your selection of so admirable a mouthpiece
from among your circle of friends.

Yrs.,
H.

Petherton has left it at that.

* * * * *

NURSERY RHYMES OF LONDON TOWN.

(SECOND SERIES.)

XVIII.

BAYSWATER.

The Bays came down to water--
Neigh! Neigh! Neigh!
And there they found the Brindled Mules--
Bray! Bray! Bray!
"How dare you muddy the Bays' water
That was as clear as glass?
How dare you drink of the Bays' water,
You children of an Ass?"

"Why shouldn't we muddy your water?
Neigh! Neigh! Neigh!
Why shouldn't we drink of your water,
Pray, pray, pray?
If our Sire was a Coster's Donkey
Our Dam was a Golden Bay,
And the Mules shall drink of the Bays' water
Every other day!"

XIX.

KENTISH TOWN.

As I jogged by a Kentish Town
Delighting in the crops,
I met a Gipsy hazel-brown
With a basketful of hops.

"You Sailor from the Dover Coast
With your blue eyes full of ships,
Carry my basket to the oast
And I'll kiss you on the lips."

Once she kissed me with a jest,
Once with a tear--
O where's the heart was in my breast
And the ring was in my ear?

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Head of Government Department_ (_in his private room
in recently-commandeered hotel_). "BOY! BRING SOME MORE COAL!"]

* * * * *

WAR'S ROMANCES. [Now that fiction is occupying itself so much with
military matters, it is necessary to warn the lady novelist--as
it used to be necessary in other days to warn her in relation to
sp