by their own.

***

The practice of interning travellers in Tube and other stations during
the progress of Zeppelin raids on the North-East Coast having become
extremely popular, it is suggested that some much-needed revenue might
be obtained by imposing a small tax--a penny, say, per hour--upon those
who thus enjoy the protection and hospitality of our railways.

***

It is officially announced that Oxford is to have no more Rhodes
Kolossals.

***

Lord ROBERT CECIL admitted in Parliament last week that the contraband
list is to be enlarged, and it is rumoured that, notwithstanding the
serious effect the step may have in the United States and elsewhere, the
list will be extended to include munitions of war.

***

A prominent City barber points out to an _Evening News_ correspondent
that it would be most unfortunate if the high cost of shaves should
result in a discontinuance of the practice of tipping the operator, and
adds that only two of the services have increased in price. He means, of
course, to draw attention to the fact that sporting chatter, dislocation
of the neck, and the removal of superfluous portions of the ears are
still provided free of charge.

* * * * *

Anti-Climax.

From a _feuilleton_ (showing what our serial fictionists have to put up
with):--

"'To-morrow?' repeated Rosalie, dully. 'I'm afraid I can't
to-morrow.'

To-morrow----!

There will be another fine instalment to-morrow."--_Daily
Mirror._

* * * * *

OF COCOA

AND CERTAIN OLD ASSOCIATIONS REVIVED BY A DRAUGHT OF THIS NUTRITIOUS
BEAN.

["The rate on cocoa is raised from 1-1/2_d._ to 6_d._ per lb." (Loud
cheers).

_The CHANCELLOR'S Budget Speech._]

Now, ere the price thereof goes soaring up,
Ere yet the devastating tax comes in,
I wish to wallow in the temperate cup
(Loud cheers) that not inebriates, like gin;
Ho, waiter! bring me--nay, I do not jest--
A cocoa of the best!

Noblest of all non-alcoholic brews,
Rich nectar of the Nonconformist Press,
Tasting of CADBURY and _The Daily News_,
Of passive martyrs and the law's distress,
And redolent of the old narcotic spice
Of peace-at-any-price--

What memories, how intolerably sweet,
Hover about its fat and unctuous fumes!
Of Little England and a half-baked Fleet,
Of German friendship pure a