.."

Have I done a wrong to Senor DOMENICO THEOTOCOPULI ("El Greco")?
Perhaps; but I hope it has prevented Miss Muriel Bletherwood from
doing him a greater.

* * * * *

"Sun Sets This Morning 8.8
Sun Sets To-night 3.56"

_Liverpool Paper_.

Just as in London last Wednesday.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Vicar's Wife_. "THE VICAR WAS ASKING ONLY THIS MORNING
WHY YOU WEREN'T IN THE HABIT OF ATTENDING CHURCH."

_Latest Inhabitant_. "WELL, YOU SEE, IT DOES SO CUT INTO ONE'S SUNDAYS."]

* * * * *

CURES FOR INSOMNIA.

The following correspondence, clearly intended for the Editor of _The
Daily Ailment_, has found its way into our letter-box. Another example
of post-office inefficiency.

SIR,--As a regular reader of your valuable journal I am always deeply
interested in the views of your readers as expressed in its columns.
The recent letters on the cure of insomnia have interested me
particularly. Although I have read your paper for many years, always
eaten standard bread, study most diligently each morning my lesson
on Government wobble and waste, grow sweet peas, keep fowls, take my
holidays early (in Thanet) and read the feuilleton, in short perform
all the duties of an enthusiastic loyal Englishman, I cannot sleep.
Yesterday I decided to try the remedies suggested by your readers.

After inviting sleep with "a dish of boiled onions" I found that I
must go to bed "without having eaten anything for five hours or so."
This meant sitting up very late, but I found the time useful for
taking "deep long breaths." Meanwhile I ran through the names of
my friends alphabetically and emptied the feathers from my pillow,
replacing them with hops. Sometimes a hop got mixed up in a "deep long
breath," which was rather pleasant.

Every few minutes I left my friends' names to say to myself, "I am
terribly sleepy," or "I am falling asleep;" this was wrong, as the
boiled onions had not had nearly five hours. "Relaxing all my muscles"
was rather awkward, as one hand was filling the pillow with hops and
the other was "holding a wet sponge," which _would_ drip water on
the sheets. Another difficulty was "wafting myself in an imaginary
aeroplane" to bring about "a state of oblivion and coma," which I
might perhaps have done more easily by putting the hops to another
use.

I had to cut out the "recital of the L