ff and blow,
My soul with song doth overflow
(Not unmelodiously, I hope).

The plashing of the H. and C.
Castalian stimulus affords;
I reach with ease an upper G
And, like the wild swan, carol free
The gamut of my vocal chords.

And when, my pure ablutions o'er,
The larynx fairly gets to work,
Amid the unplugged water's roar
I caper, trolling round the floor,
In tones as rich as THOMAS BURKE.

But in my dressing-room's retreat
My native wood-notes wilt and sag;
Not there those raptures I repeat;
My bellow now becomes a bleat
(For reasons, ask Professor BRAGG).

So, Ruth, if song may find a path
Still through thy heart, be listening by
The bathroom while I take my bath;
But leave before the aftermath,
Nor while I'm dressing linger nigh.

On the acoustic side, I fear,
My chest of drawers is quite a "dud;"
The chairs would silence Chanticleer,
Nor would I have you overhear
When I have lost my collar-stud.

* * * * *

BOOKS AND BACKS.

The proposal to revive the old "yellow back" cover for novels, partly in
the interest of economy in production, partly to attract the purchaser by
the lure of colour, has caused no little stir in the literary world. In
order to clarify opinion on the subject Mr. Punch has been at pains to
secure the following expressions of their views from some of the leading
authors of both sexes:--

Mr. J.M. KEYNES, C.B., the author of the most sensational book of the hour,
contributed some interesting observations on the economics of the dye
industry and their bearing on the question. These we are reluctantly
obliged to omit. We may note however his general conclusion that the impact
on the public mind of a book often varies in an inverse ratio with the
attractiveness of its appearance or its title. At the same time he admits
that if he had called his momentous work _The Terrible Treaty_, and if it
had been bound in a rainbow cover with a Cubist design, its circulation
might have been even greater than it actually is. But then, as he candidly
owns, "as a Cambridge man, I may be inclined to attach an undue importance
to 'Backs.'"

Mr. FREDERIC HARRISON writes: "MATT. ARNOLD once chaffed me for keeping a
guillotine in my back-garden. But my real colour was never sea-green in
politics any more than it is yellow in literature or journalism. Yet I have
a great tenderness for the old