And fat commercial travellers are dressed in dingy blue;
Lack-lustre black to lawyers leave and sad souls in the City,
But I'll wear Linsey-Woolsey because it sounds so pretty.
I don't know what it looks like,
I don't know how it feels,
But Linsey-Woolsey to my fancy
Prettily appeals.

And when I find a lovely maid to settle all my cash on,
She will be much too beautiful to need the gauds of fashion.
No tinted tulle or taffeta, no silk or crepe-de-chine
Will the maiden of my fancy wear--no chiffon, no sateen,
No muslin, no embroidery, no lace of costly price,
But she'll be clad in Dimity because it sounds so nice.
I don't know what it looks like,
I do not know its feel,
But a dimpled maid in Dimity
Was ever my ideal.

* * * * *

THE LAST MENU CARD.

"To-day is one of the great moments of history. Germany's last
card is on the table. It is war to the knife. Either she starves
Great Britain or Great Britain starves her."

_Mr. Curtin in "The Times."_

Mr. CURTIN has lost a great chance for talking of "War to the
knife-and-fork." Possibly he was away in Germany at the time when this
_jeu d'esprit_ was invented.

* * * * *

"The Canadian papers are unanimous that the German peace proposals
are premature, and will be refused saskatoon."

_Examiner_ (_Launceston, Tasmania_).

We had not heard before that Germany had asked for Saskatoon, but
anyway we are glad she is not going to get it.

* * * * *

From a schoolgirl's essay:--

"The Reconnaissance was the time when people began to wake up ...
Friar Jelicoe was a very great painter; he painted angles."

Probably an ancestor of the gallant gentleman who recently had a brush
with the enemy.

* * * * *

TACTLESS TACTICS.

Were I a burglar in the dock
With every chance of doing time,
With Justice sitting like a rock
To hear a record black with crime;
If my conviction seemed a cert,
Yet, by a show of late repentance,
I thought I might, with luck, avert
A simply crushing sentence;--

I should adopt, by use of art,
A pensive air of new-born grace,
In hope to melt the Bench's heart
And mollify its awful face;
I should not go and run amok,
Nor in a fit of senseless fury
Punch the judicial nose o