C.O.'s that this is sound advice.

* * * * *

"Lord Strachie asked in the House of Lords yesterday whether the
Government proposed to restrict the importation of hope."

_Evening Paper._

We understand that the answer was in the negative, as, owing to the
activity of pessimists, there is still some shortage in the home-grown
supplies.

* * * * *

THE RECONCILIATION.

[It is thought that the following story may have been intended for the
"Organ of Organs" (R.A.M.C.)].

Charles, the young Army Medical, went down on one patella. His heart (a
hollow muscular pump) was driving blood from its ventricles as it had
never yet driven it in all its twenty-five years of incessant labour.
Further, by flattening the arch of his diaphragm and elevating his ribs
and sternum, Charles was increasing the cavity of his thorax and taking
in air. Immediately the diaphragm and the sternum and costal cartilages
relaxed again the air escaped. The lungs of Charles were doing their
work. Fast and yet faster became his breathing.

"Mabel," he murmured, "Mabel!"

The girl made no movement. Her respiration continued, but no impulse to
action reached her nerve-centres. Yet, without an effort on her part,
her tissues in one minute produced enough heat to boil one twenty-fourth
of a pint of water.

"Wonderful!" he whispered hoarsely, probably thinking of this, "you are
wonderful."

You will not marvel that his voice was gruff when I tell you that the
membrane of the larynx was inflamed. Greater men than Charles have
become hoarse in such circumstances.

Immediately the blood rushed to the capillaries of Mabel's cheeks and
her colour deepened. She trembled slightly.

"There, that's it!" he cried, gazing rapturously.

"What?" she gasped, startled by his passion.

"Again that artery below your ear is throbbing, throbbing, and"--his
voice rose in despair--"I can never remember the name! Can you?"

"Alas," she moaned, "I do not know it! Oh, Charles, there is something I
must tell you at once."

"What is it?" he cried with sudden fear. "What is it?"

"Why, I--I----Oh, I do not know how to say it. Charles, you will never
forgive me!"

"What is it, dearest? Tell me--you can trust me. The medical
profession----"

"Well, then, I tried to bandage little Johnny's foot yesterday,
and--and----"

"Calm yourself, dear. And----?"

"I tied a 'granny' knot. Oh, Charl