little
forms like the following will be found in the more popular dailies:--

PROTEST TO YOUR M.P.

I protest against the continued refusal of my fire to burn up, for
which Government maladministration is responsible. I urge you to do
all in your power to see that a warm ruddy glow is cast continually
over my dining-room. The men, women and children of your constituency
will judge you at the next election by your action in this matter.

And then there is the question of the miscellaneous material which is now
being supplied in the name of coal, especially those large flat pieces of
excellent slate. As things are now I often wonder that the miners don't
make use of them for propaganda purposes. Chalked manifestoes such as--

We demand forty-four shillings more a ton, a five-hour week and
control of the mines

would do much to convert the armchair critic as he digs about in the
scuttle. When we get our coal from the State, however, we shall, of course,
carefully set apart these sections of slate, wrap them in brown-paper and
send them by parcel post to the nearest elementary school, with a note to
say there must have been an inter-departmental error.

From State coal too it will only be a step to State firewood, and we know
from the papers what lots the Government has of that. Army huts, tables,
bed-boards, trestles, aeroplanes, railway trucks--there is no end to it
all. And underneath the firewood, of course, carefully packed, comes the
daily newspaper itself. There can be little doubt that, once they have
obtained a grip of coal and kindling-wood, the Government will proceed to
nationalise the Press.

EVOE.

* * * * *

REDS AND DARK BLUES.

[Mr. R. H. TAWNEY and Mr. G. D. H. COLE, both Oxford Fellows,
represent academic intellectualism _in excelsis_ at the G.H.Q. of
Labour.]

Only a simpleton or sawney
Falls short in reverence for TAWNEY;
Only the man without a soul
Disputes the kingliness of COLE.

Labour, no longer gross and brawny,
Finds its true hierophant in TAWNEY;
And, freed from all save Guild Control,
Attains its apogee in COLE.

Proud Prelates in their vestments lawny
Quail at the heresies of TAWNEY;
And prostrate Dukes in anguish roll,
Scared by the scrutiny of COLE.

The Nabob quits his brandy-pawnee
To listen to the lore of TAWNEY;
The plain beer-drinker bans the bowl,