2 years of age, is married, and has two
children."--_Same Paper, same date._

* * * * *

"Mr. S.J. Rodrigo, Vidane Aratchy of Kotahena, who was bitten by a made
bog on Sunday, left for Coonoor last evening by the Talaimannar train
for treatment."--_Ceylon Independent._

But why make bogs if they are so dangerous?

* * * * *

From a shoemaker's advertisement:

"ROUGH BOYS WELL LEATHERED."--_High River Times_ (_Alberta,
Canada_).

The good old slipper has not outlived its usefulness.

* * * * *

"To all anonymous correspondents who have recently written to me I have
the honour to reply that they are all blackguards."--_Advt. in
Ceylon Paper._

Though we ourselves should have waived this honour we are in full sympathy
with the writer.

* * * * *

[Illustration: "OH! DO WEAR YOUR KHAKI TIE, DAD, OR ELSE NO ONE WILL KNOW
YOU'RE A SOLDIER."]

* * * * *

TRAVEL WITHOUT TRAINS.

(_Suggested by some recent remarks in "The Observer" on eccentric place
names._)

Now that the rise in railway fares
(At which no patriot cavils)
Has chained us elders to our chairs
And circumscribed our travels,
I love to play the festive game
Of astral gravitation
To any neighbourhood whose name
Is fraught with fascination.

I've never sampled in the flesh
The varied charms of Bootle,
But mentally I find them fresh
And redolent of footle;
And, though my steps to that resort
I never up till now bent,
Imagination can transport
My spirit into Chowbent.

Always alert upon the track
Of rich and strange emotion,
To Pudsey and to Wibsey Slack
I pay my fond devotion;
My heart is in the Highlands oft,
Though age its glow enfeebles,
And soars triumphantly aloft
At the mere sound of Peebles.

The nightingale in leafy June,
I own, divinely warbles,
But equal magic fills the tune-
ful name of Scotia's Gorbals;
And if you ever should desire
A subject to wax funny on,
What theme more fitly can inspire
The Muse than Ballybunnion?

Some places on my astral rounds
I'm strong upon tabooing,
On anti-alcoholic grounds
Grogport and Rum eschewing;
But no such painful stigma robs
Proud Potto of its lustre,
Or rules out