_.
At Question time Mr. LLOYD GEORGE, fresh from the Paris Conference, had
to deal with a number of inquiries put by the little group of Scottish
malcontents whose notion of patriotism is to embarrass the Government on
each and every occasion. Mr. HOGGE wanted to know when the MINISTER OF
MUNITIONS was going to give the other side of the case--"the German
side," as an interrupter pertinently put it; and Mr. PRINGLE intimated
that a settlement could have been reached but for the unreasonableness
of the Government.

This gave Dr. ADDISON, usually the mildest-mannered man that ever lanced
a gumboil, an opportunity of administering to big accuser a much-needed
lesson in deportment. The hon. Member had first forced himself, without
invitation, into a private conversation in the Minister's room, and had
then given a totally misleading account of what took place. He had made
himself the spokesman of a body which had displayed "a treacherous
disregard of the highest national interests."

Mr. PRINGLE was as much surprised as if he had been bitten by a rabbit,
and wound up an unconvincing defence of himself with the remark that he
would rather keep silence than say anything to exacerbate feeling. It is
a pity that his friend Mr. HOGGE did not imitate this wise if rather
tardy reticence. He gave Mr. LLOYD GEORGE the lie when he was describing
how the disputes had interfered with the supply of guns urgently needed
by the Army, and provoked the retort that, instead of encouraging the
strikers by unfounded suggestions, he would be better employed if "with
what credit is left to him" he went down to the Clyde and tried to get
them to work.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _She._ "Good gracious! The Brown-Smiths!! I thought they
were so poor."

_He._ "Yes. But, you see, he's been supplying the Government with shells
for quite a fortnight!"]

* * * * *

A LETTER TO THE FRONT.

"Kin yer write a letter?"

"More or less," I said. I did not rate myself with Madame DE STAEL nor
with EDWARD FITZGERALD, but I forebore to mention these names because I
thought that they would not be familiar to my questioner. If you happen
to know Paradise Rents, Fulham, you will realise that neither Madame DE
STAEL, nor FITZGERALD is much read there. Moreover, the type that
addressed me had not the aspect of a literary man.

He was a man of some seven years, maybe, in company with a younger ma