"Wanted by respectable woman, a couple of Gentleman's Trousers (left off)."--_Irish Paper_.
"A Caproni machine flew a distance of 325 miles in four fours."--_Scottish Paper._
A correspondent writes to ask if this is double the time usually described as "two two's."
"At 11 o'clock the muster roll at many shops and offices was still incomplete. Indeed assistants were reported 'missing' at many establishments an hour later. There were girls--Government and others--who stayed at home."--_Evening Paper_.
"At Bolton on Saturday the United Textile Factory Workers' Association decided to put forward a demand for a 4-hours week, with the same rate of pay as for 55-1/2 hours."--_Provincial Paper_.
We trust this is a misprint and not an "intelligent anticipation" of what we are coming to.
"The teachers of ---- are not satisfied with the scale of salary fixed by the Education Committee, and yesterday morning a deputation waited upon the Special Salaries Committee to state their case. The Education Committee decided to increase the salary of the borough Director of Education from £450 to £500."
And if that don't satisfy 'em--Bolshevism, my dear Sir, Bolshevism!
[Illustration: _The General (showing his nieces round Club_). "THERE'S BEEN A LOT OF ARM-CHAIR FIGHTING DONE IN THIS ROOM." _School-Girl._ "HOW TOPPING! THAT BEATS PILLOW-FIGHTING. BUT ISN'T IT RATHER DANGEROUS?"]
Captain Edwin Peck, E.N., Had the habits of a hen. Edwin's nose was like a bone, And his teeth were not his own; Neither, I regret to tell, Did they fit him very well. It was not his fault, no doubt, That they tried to tumble out, And in fact he seldom dropped them, For he almost always copped them Just as they became unstuck By ejaculating, "Cluck."
Yoked to this elusive plate, Did our Edwin curse his fate? No, he was content to live, For he was inquisitive. If he saw a speck of grit He must needs examine it, Not as any other might, Standing at his proper height, But with body slightly slanted And his head obliquely canted, While with small unblinking eye He surveyed it wickedly.
One fine Sunday Captain Peek Stalked along the lower deck, Pausing now and then to stare, Poking here and scratching there,
Like a pullet in her prime Clucking softly all the time. Presently the Captain spied One small scuttle open wide. "Cluck!" he said, and likewise. "Tut!