Stuttfield left me in disgust.

Then I heard from a friend that he had sold his cottage at Redhill.
This was a bad sign, and I went to see him. I found him much worse.

"You've taken an overdose of _The Volcano_," I said.

He seized my arm with trembling fingers.

"The Red Revolution is upon us," he hissed.

I laughed. "Don't you worry about the Red Revolution. You come out to
lunch."

He would hardly be persuaded. Clubs and restaurants would be attacked
first, he thought. If we lunched together it had better be in
an eating-house in Bermondsey. "I have a disguise," he said, and
disclosed a complete proletarian outfit.

"Well, I haven't," I said. "Not that these clothes of mine will lead
anyone to mistake me for a capitalist. But, so far as lunch goes,
hadn't we better be killed by a Red bomb at the Fitz than by tripe in
Bermondsey?"

Stuttfield could not but admit the sense of this, so we started out.

It is widely recognised that Flag Days, however admirable their
objects, have been a little overdone. But it was sheer bad luck that
brought Stuttfield face to face with a flag-seller just as we were
entering the Fitz. She came at him with a determined aspect and began
"The Red Cr----"

It was enough. Poor Stuttfield was across the pavement and into a taxi
before I could stop him. There was nothing for me to do but follow
him.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"Waterloo," he answered through blanched lips. I could get nothing
more from him.

At Waterloo he sprang out, leaving me to pay the cab, and disappeared
into the station. I followed as quickly as I could, but he was nowhere
to be seen.

"Where would he go to hide from the Reds?" I asked myself. Suddenly I
had an idea about his destination.

I was right. In the foremost carriage I found him. I tried to persuade
him to come out, but he clung to the rack. So I left him. I have not
seen him since.

I hope he feels safe in the Isle of Wight.

* * * * *

"You can burn your slack cook in oven in our ----
Grate."--_Advt. in Daily Paper._

But now that the coal strike is over we shall try to put up with our
cook a little longer.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Our Reverend Spoonerist (calling at the Deanery)._ "IS
THE BEAN DIZZY?"]

* * * * *

"WALLASEY'S LOW FIGURE.

POPULATION JUMP--FROM 21,192 TO 99,493 IN 28 DAYS."

_Liverpool