* * * *

TWO NIGHTMARES.

[_Dreamed after reading in a daily paper that "any style of dress that
lessens one's self-confidence should be tabooed" (sic)._]

I travelled from the Sussex hills
With confidence divine,
Full of the conscious power that thrills
My heart when life is mine,
And strode to Lady Fancy Frills
With whom I was to dine.

Her guests had come from Clubs and Courts
And Halls of wealthy Jews;
As they surveyed my running shorts
I felt my courage ooze,
While conscious power, grown out of sorts,
Leaked through my canvas shoes.

* * * * *

Then I re-travelled South by West
Inflated with a joy
Which in the suit I called my best
No buffet could destroy;
I may remark I'd come full-dressed
From lunch at the Savoy.

But when the hills began to shout
I coloured to the roots,
And when the valleys cried, "Get out!"
To the last word in suits,
My joy, displaced by sudden doubt,
Leaked through my spatted boots.

* * * * *

Of the mysterious Marconigrams:--

"They may be the effort of sentiment beings in some neighbouring planet
to communicate with us."--_Evening Paper._

Can we have broken in on a conversation between _Venus_ and _Mars_?

* * * * *

[Illustration: MANNERS AND MODES.

PROFITEERING IN THE WEST END COMPELS MAYFAIR TO PUT ON ANY OLD RAGS AND DO
ITS SHOPPING IN SHOREDITCH.]

* * * * *

[Illustration: BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND.

"WILL YOU STAND BACK, SIR? YOU'RE SPOILING THE PICTURE."]

* * * * *

A CONFLICT OF EMOTIONS.

(_With the British Army in France._)

"I've seen rivetters at New York pie-foundries and stew-specialists on
North Sea trawlers," said Percival severely, "but I never realised how
monotonous feeding could be till I got into a Mess controlled by Binnie."

Binnie puffed his pipe severely, being of the tough fibre which enables
Mess Presidents to endure. Frederick, who had been silent, rose from his
seat, heaved a distressing sigh and left the room.

"There's the moral that adorns the tale, you--you public danger!" continued
Percival, indicating Frederick's retreating figure. "Look to what a
condition that once bright youth has been brought by your endless stews and
curries."

"Not a bit