in their note-books), and the dealers are throwing it on
to the floor or throwing it at each other or trying to throw it at a
retailer, who always puts on a haughty air and passes on to the next
stall, till he too gets entangled in the game and finds that he has
bought twenty-four stone of whiting at twopence a pound; then he
throws it at some more porters, and the porters dash outside and throw
it at the carts, and the carts clatter away to Kensington, and my
wife buys a whiting at tenpence a pound, and the circle of fish
organisation is complete.

At about this point it is a good thing to pass on to Covent Garden and
buy some flowers.

A. P. H.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Aspiring Solicitor_ (_speaking in telephone with the
idea of impressing supposed client_). "YES, TELL THE LORD CHANCELLOR
I WILL LUNCH WITH HIM, AND SHALL BE VERY HAPPY TO GIVE HIM THE BENEFIT
OF MY ADVICE IN THE MATTER HIS LORDSHIP MENTIONED. GOOD-BYE. NOW WHAT
CAN I DO FOR YOU, SIR?"

_Supposed Client._ "WELL, I'VE COME ABOUT YOUR TELEPHONE, SIR, WHICH
I UNDERSTAND FROM YOUR LETTER TO US HAS BEEN COMPLETELY OUT OF WORKING
ORDER SINCE YESTERDAY."]

* * * * *

A Record Crash.

From "Sayings of the Week" in a Sunday paper:--

"With the aerial world at our feet we are making no effort to
grasp it.--_G. Holt Thomas._"

* * * * *

CAPUA.

(_A Bolshevist's lament, designed to show that though we may appear to
be giving way rather easily to the Russian Government we have a deep
purpose in it all._)

Silken ways and softer manners
Bend the barbarous victor down;
Woe unto the Soviet banners!
M. KRASSIN is in town.

Hark! the Lydian lute is thrumming
Roses fall about his feet;
He shall pardon each shortcoming,
Conqueror he shall taste defeat.

Puzzled, maybe slightly baffled,
He shall get to like it all,
Overlook the absent scaffold
At the windows of Whitehall.

Piccadilly, though it warps his
Sense of justice, he shall see
Unencumbered by the corpses
Of a bloated _bourgeoisie_;

Quite forget the stern aspirants
To a nobler newer world;
Tread the Birdcage Walk with tyrants,
Have his hair by Bond Street curled;

Lulled by scented airs and graces,
Feel the Scythian ardours fade;
Purchase underwear and braces
In the Burlington Arcade;

Losing for a mess