in his blanket and refused to be comforted.

THE REAL CULPRIT

The Crown Prince had been so busy that he hadn't had time to get
together with his father and have a confidential chat. But one evening
when there was a lull in the 808-centimeter guns, they managed to get a
few moments off. The Crown Prince turned to his father and said:

"Dad, there is something I have been wanting to ask you for a long time.
Is Uncle George really responsible for this scrap?"

"No, my son."

"Well, did Cousin Nick have anything to do with it?"

"Not at all"

"Possibly you did?"

"No, sir."

"Then would you mind telling me who it was?"

The anointed one was silent for a moment. Then he turned to his son and
said:

"I'll tell you how it happened. About two or three years ago there was a
wild man came over here from the United States, one of those rip-roaring
rough riders that you read about in dime novels, but he certainly did
have about him a plausible air. I took him out and showed him our fleet.
Then I showed him the army, and after he had looked them over he said to
me, 'Bill, you could lick the world,' And I was damn fool enough to
believe him."

A MATTER OF NOMENCLATURE

A Negro was recently brought into police court in a little town in
Georgia, charged with assault and battery. The Negro, who was well known
to the judge, was charged with having struck another "unbleached
American" with a brick. After the usual preliminaries the judge
inquired:

"Why did you hit this man?"

"Jedge, he called me a damn black rascal."

"Well, you are one, aren't you?"

"Yessah, I _is_ one. But, Jedge, s'pose somebody'd call you a damn black
rascal, wouldn't you hit 'em?"

"But I'm not one, am I?"

"Naw, sah, naw, sah, you ain't one; but s'pose somebody'd call you de
kind o' rascal you _is_, what'd you do?"

"IT IS FORBIDDEN"

Early in the war J.B. adopted a French soldier and furnishes him with a
monthly allowance of tobacco. Incidentally, he is also lubricating his
rusty French by carrying on a correspondence with his "_filleul de
guerre_" who writes him from the trenches, "somewhere in France."

In a recent letter, the soldier informed his American benefactor that
"_hier j'ai tue deux Boches. Ils sont alles a l'enfer._" (Yesterday I
killed two Boches. They went straight to hell.) The censor wrote between
the lines, "_Il est defendu de dire ou est l'ennemi._" (It is forbidden
to tell where the enemy is!)

HER P