poison being used that they come out of their holes for it while it is
being put down. We always make our rats stand up and beg for it.

* * *

A domestic servant was recently blown out of her mistress's house
through the too liberal use of paraffin whilst lighting fires.
Luckily, however, it was her day out, so no complications ensued.

* * *

On being asked his recipe for keeping young, a well-known physician
refused to reply. In view of the increasing number of precocious
authors, the question again arises, "Should a doctor tell?"

* * *

_The Daily Express_ states that there is "very little demand for
champagne to-day." We fancy this is due to the fact that a number of
people are saving up to buy coffee at Messrs. LYONS'.

* * * * *

[Illustration: THE MORNING TOILET.

"OH, LOOK, MUMMY! THERE'S WILFRED DOING HIS HAIR FROM MEMORY."]

* * * * *

"THE PASSIONATE SPECTATOR."

We are asked to say that the above title of a book written by Miss
JANE BURR and published by Messrs. DUCKWORTH (it is described on the
wrapper as "an entirely unconventional novel founded on original and
ultra-modern views concerning life and marriage") has nothing to do
with our respected contemporary.

* * * * *

"GOVERNMENT'S STRIKING ATTITUDE. WAITING TILL THE CAR JUMBS?"

_Nigerian Pioneer_.

Personally we always try to get out when this seems to be imminent.

* * * * *

TO OUR PLAY-MAKERS.

[_The Daisy_ and _The Crossing_, which both dealt with the
life after death, have come to an untimely end; and, in
deference to public feeling, the heroine of _Every Woman's
Privilege_ has been furnished with a fresh _fiance_.]

When in my stall at eve I sit
(And these remarks would still apply,
Perhaps with greater force, were I
Accommodated in the Pit)--
Worn with the long day's dusty strife,
I ask a brief surcease of gloom;
I want a mirror held to life,
But not the life beyond the tomb.

The views of parties who have "crossed"
(Meaning to Jordan's further shore),
Those, as they say, who've "gone before,"
But not (unhappily) been "lost"--
They make me ill; they decompose
My vital essence at its fount
(Excepting BARRIE'S _Mary Rose_,
But then, of course, he doesn't count).

Give me the life that quick