r? I pulled
the Chinks together and we stopped 'em. That's all."

"Good Lord, that wasn't you, was it?" I cried. "Set about 'em with
picks and shovels, shrieking Chinese war-cries and chopped 'em to
bits. Oh, splendid! But how on earth did you rouse these tame coolies
to it?"

The Beachcomber tugged his red moustache and laughed deprecatingly.
"It wasn't very difficult really. You see, these birds of mine are
only temporary coolies. In civilian life they're mostly river pirates,
Tong-fighters and suchlike professional cut-throats. Killing comes
natural to 'em. They only wanted somebody who could organize and lead
'em."

"And you could?"

The Beachcomber drew himself up proudly.

"I should hope so. Wasn't I their Pirate King for seven long years?"

PATLANDER.

* * * * *

[Illustration: OUR COURTEOUS TELEPHONE SERVICE.

_City Magnate_. "YOU'VE CUT ME OFF! HELL!!"

_Sweet Voice from the other end_. "THAT WILL BE A TRUNK CALL."]

* * * * *

SELF-DETERMINATION IN DEVON.

"At a public meeting at Barnstaple, the Vicar presiding, it
was decided to form a local branch of the League of
Nations."--_Western Morning News_.

Won't WILSON be bucked?

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Little Girl (in foreground)._ "MOTHER, I SUPPOSE THE
BRIDEGROOM _MUST_ COME TO HIS WEDDING?"]

* * * * *

THE LAST WATCH OF THE NIGHT.

The hand of dawn is on the door
That seals the dolorous arch of night;
Dim gardens and hushed groves once more
Dream of the half-forgotten light;
Yet all the ancient fires are cold
On altars battered and forlorn,
And men grope still for gauds of gold,
Oblivious of the imminent morn.

When comes the dawn? Its unseen dew
Distils on folded swath and mound,
Where grass is deep or sods are new,
And branches shake without a sound;
Where, numberless and low and grey,
The furrows lessen to the sky;
There sleep the sons of England, they
Who died that England should not die.

Better--ah, better for us all,
For them who sleep and us who wake,
That never bird at dawn should call
Nor golden foam of morning break;
That on one high cairn of the dead
The ultimate light should be unsealed,
Than that the world should live unled,
Unchanged, unpurified, unhealed.

Life and all things that make it fair