ance to the speech of
gods"--

* * *

We promised Miss Wyatt that the next time we happened on the parody of
Housman's "Lad," we would reprint it; and yesterday we stumbled on it.
Voila!--

THE BELLS OF FROGNAL LANE.

They sound for early Service
The bells of Frognal Lane;
And I am thinking of the day
I shot my cousin Jane.

At Frognal Lane the Service
Begins at half-past eight,
And some folk get there early
While others turn up late.

But, come they late or early,
I ne'er shall be again
The careless chap of days gone by
Before I murdered Jane.

* * *

We have been looking over "Forms Suggested for Telegraph Messages,"
issued by the Western Union. While more humorous than perhaps was
intended, they fall short of the forms suggested by Max Beerbohm, in
"How Shall I Word It?" As for example:

LETTER IN ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF WEDDING PRESENT.

Dear Lady Amblesham,

Who gives quickly, says the old proverb, gives twice. For this reason I
have purposely delayed writing to you, lest I should appear to thank you
more than once for the small, cheap, hideous present you sent me on the
occasion of my recent wedding. Were you a poor woman, that little bowl
of ill-imitated Dresden china would convict you of tastelessness merely;
were you a blind woman, of nothing but an odious parsimony. As you have
normal eyesight and more than normal wealth, your gift to me proclaims
you at once a Philistine and a miser (or rather did so proclaim you
until, less than ten seconds after I had unpacked it from its wrappings
of tissue paper, I took it to the open window and had the satisfaction
of seeing it shattered to atoms on the pavement). But stay! I perceive a
flaw in my argument. Perhaps you were guided in your choice by a
definite wish to insult me. I am sure, on reflection, that this is so.
_I shall not forget._

Yours, etc.
Cynthia Beaumarsh.

PS. My husband asks me to tell you to warn Lord Amblesham to keep out of
his way or to assume some disguise so complete that he will not be
recognized by him and horsewhipped.

PPS. I am sending copies of this letter to the principal London and
provincial newspapers.

* * *

We hope that Max Beerbohm read far enough in Bergson to appreciate what
Mr. Santayana says of that philosopher. He seems to feel, wrote G. S.
(we quote from memory), that all systems of