ondon would be stirred to
its depths by the news that Sir HALL CAINE was on duty outside the
establishment of _The Sunday Pictorial_, and that Miss ETHEL M. DELL
was in charge of the squad on the doorstep of the Amalgamated Press.

Sympathetic strikes would develope. The newspaper-vendors would rise
and demand that _The Daily Mirror_ feuilleton be suppressed, thus
plunging the country into an agony of suspense, and railwaymen would
cease work at the sight of any passenger immersed in the most recent
instalment of the _Home Bits_ serial story.

Mr. W. W. JACOBS would address mass meetings at the Docks, and Mr.
HILAIRE BELLOC would embark on a resolute thirst-strike. At the same
time daily newspapers would compete in offering solutions of the
problem. One would say, "For goodness' sake give him the extra paltry
one hundred and fifty pounds and let the country get on with its
work;" and another would suggest a compromise at one hundred-and-fifty
guineas, conditional upon the author's output.

Far from the simple withholding of his labour by a single novelist,
such a turmoil would ensue as would not only shake our intellectual
life to its foundations, but would keep the PRIME MINISTER engaged in
the exploration of interminable vistas of avenue.

* * * * *

=Mixed Education.=

"Formerly a student at Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford, her husband is
a Fellow of Balliol College."--_Local Paper._

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Prospective Sitter_ (_with unconventional past_). "I
ALWAYS THINK YOU GET SUCH WONDERFUL CHARACTER INTO YOUR PORTRAITS."

_Artist_. "GLAD TO HEAR THAT. I ALWAYS TRY TO MAKE MY SUBJECTS'
PORTRAITS A MIRROR OF THEIR PAST LIVES."]

* * * * *

=THE SUBSTITUTE.=

[Sweets are replacing alcohol.--_Vide Papers passim_.]

As more and more the god of wine
Grows faint from want of tippling,
Nor round his path the roses shine,
Nor purple streams are rippling;
As usquebaugh and malt and hops
No longer much entice us,
We crown anew with lollipops,
With peppermints, with acid drops,
The nobler Dionysus.

Bright coloured as his orient car,
Piled high with autumn splendours,
The pageants of the sweetstuffs are
At all the pastry-vendors;
From earliest flush of dawn till eight
The Maenad nymphs in masses,
With lions' help upbear the f