game.
Comforts for Tommy. Everyone has their own way of making us happy, not
forgetting the dear lady what sent us three hundred little lavender
bags, with pretty little bows on them, all sewn by herself, to keep our
linen sweetly perfumed. It's nice to think that they all mean well, and
I always follow the advice of the auctioneer what was trying to pass off
a plated teapot as solid silver."

"What did he say?"

"Look at the bright side," answered James over his shoulder as he
hurried away. "O reevwaw, Sir."

* * * * *

"On the night of February 29th ten thousand women marched
through Unter Den London crying 'bread' and 'peace.'"

_Daily Gleaner_ (_Kingston, Jamaica._)

We missed them in the Tube.

* * * * *

"WAIT AND SEE."

[Illustration: Mr. Asquith. "WELL, AS WE SAY IN HOME, I HAVE BEEN, I
HAVE SEEN----"

Mr. Punch. "THEN YOU NEEDN'T WAIT ANY MORE, SIR; ALL YOU'VE GOT TO DO IS
TO GO IN AND CONQUER."]

* * * * *

THE PULLING OF PERCY'S LEG.

It was one of those calm quarters of an hour which sometimes happen even
in a Y.M.C.A. canteen. Private Penny, leaning over the counter, consumed
coffee and buns and bestowed spasmodic confidences upon me as I cut up
cake into the regulation slices.

"Oxo and biscuits, please," broke in a languid voice suddenly, and a
pale young man with an armlet approached the counter. I turned away for
the cup, and Private Penny, laying down his mug, addressed the newcomer.

"Who are you?" he inquired genially.

The young man surveyed him with cold superiority; then he turned to me.

"I'm a DERBY man, you see," he began complacently. "A lot of pals'll be
here presently, and we're all going to join this afternoon. They're
late."

"And what," I asked with resentment, for Private Penny was a friend of
mine, "are you going to join?"

It appeared that this superior person, after unprejudiced consideration
of the matter, had decided to join the A.S.C. He said he considered he
would be of most use in the A.S.C.; he said he was specially designed
and constructed by Providence for the A.S.C.; he said....

And then suddenly we became aware that Private Penny was mourning gently
to himself over a dough-nut.

"Pore chap!" he was muttering, "pore young feller--'e don't know. None
of 'em knows till it's too late, and then they finds their mistake. No
good to tell 'em--pore c