. The National War Bonds must be sold, and Art
must help, and no one must wince.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Mother_ (_in course of an arithmetic lesson_). "WHAT
IS HALF FOUR?"

_Daughter_. "TWO."

_Mother_. "AND CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT IS HALF FIVE?"

_Daughter_. "WELL, MUMMIE, IT DEPENDS WHICH HALF YOU MEAN--THE TWO OR
THE THREE."]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(_BY MR. PUNCH'S STAFF OF LEARNED CLERKS._)

Many years ago, when I was younger and more optimistic than to-day, I
thought out what struck me as an adventure-story of wonderful promise,
and confided the plot to a friend, reputed expert in such matters. He
heard me with indulgent attention and, when I had finished, "Capital,"
says he; "but do you propose to differentiate it in _any_ way from
_Dead Man's Rock?_" I am reminded of this ancient wound by the
appearance of a new buccaneering book by Sir ARTHUR QUILLER-COUCH;
and that not only on account of the name of the author, but because
when a tale of this kind begins in Bristol Docks, with a company
that includes an apprentice-hero, a one-eyed sailor and a parrot of
piratical past, it is impossible not to recall _Treasure Island_.
However this may be, _Mortallone_ soon attains a development quite
sufficiently original, with an island and a secret and a noble store
of buried treasure, all in doubloons and pieces of eight, which is
exactly how I prefer it. In short a capital yarn, which did but
confirm me in an old resolve that, were I ever thinking of commencing
pirate or starting any unlawful business of the seas, I should avoid
apprentices like the plague. The second part of _Mortallone and Aunt
Trinidad_ (ARROWSMITH) I found rather less satisfactory. Here a number
of tales of the Spanish Main are supposed to be told by a trio of
withered beldames whose youthful prime was spent as pirate queens. A
striking and novel approach; though my belief in it was hindered by
the discovery that these untutored crones not only spoke but wrote an
admirable, if slightly mannered, prose, akin to that of STEVENSON or,
say, Sir ARTHUR himself. But these be the carpings of age; I am sure
that no boy lucky enough to find _Mortallone_ among his Christmas
presents will leave a paragraph undevoured.

* * * * *

Dr. H. STUERMER is one of that small band of Germans who have had the
courage to denounce the policy and acts of their