s thought (with a meaning look at Mr. WELLS), had
been most affable. Everything now was all right. His next book was to be
a war nov---- (Deleted by Chairman).

Mr. HAROLD BEGBIE then rose to his feet simultaneously with Mr. WM. LE
QUEUX.

Mr. WM. LE QUEUX said that he owned an autograph portrait of the KAISER.
It was signed "Yours with the belt, BILL." The speaker would sell it on
behalf of the War Funds and humbly apologised to his brother authors for
having knocked about so much in his youth with emperors and persons of
that kind. It should not occur again. He pointed out that he had
foretold this War, and that his famous book, _The Great War_
of--whenever it was--was to be brought up to date in the form of ----
(Deleted by Chairman).

At this juncture it was brought to the Chairman's notice that Mr. H. G.
WELLS was missing. An anxious search revealed the fact that the
ornamental sword and plumed casque of the Military Member of the
Invasion Committee of the Thorpe-le-Soken Division of Essex had
disappeared at the same time, and the meeting broke up in disorder.

* * * * *

Illustration: THE SUPREME TEST.

_The Civilian._ "I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU DO IT. FANCY MARCHIN' THIRTY MILES
WITH THE RIFLE, AND THAT PACK ON YER BACK!"

_The Tommy_. "YES, AND MIND YOU--IT'S TIPPERARY ALL THE WAY!"

* * * * *

Our Sporting Press Again. "Sporting rifles have been bought in Paris
for pheasant-shooting."--_Daily News._

* * * * *

THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT.

I was sitting in front of the fire--dozing, I daresay--when he was
announced.

"Father Christmas."

He came in awkwardly and shook me by the hand.

"Forgive my unceremonious entry," he said. "I know I ought to have come
down the chimney, but--well, _you_ understand."

"Things are different this year," I suggested.

"Very different," he said gloomily. He put his sack down and took a seat
on the other side of the fire-place.

"Anything for me?" I wondered, with an eye on the sack between us.

"Ah, there's no difference _there_," he said, brightening up as he drew
out a big flat parcel. "The blotter from Aunt Emily. You needn't open it
now; it's exactly the same as last year's."

I had been prepared for it. I took a letter from my pocket and dropped
it in the sack.

"My letter of thanks for it," I explained. "Exactly the same as last
year's too."

Father Christ