e warrant, a five-franc
note, a box of matches, a recently purchased paper flag and the
politician's secretary's note. The first and the last were taken,
the rest fell to the floor, the door closed once more and again
Hubert was alone.

Hubert doesn't know what he did next; probably, he thinks, he sat
down and wept, and it was his tears that induced the gods not to
convert his ticket into a death-warrant, but instead to give him
the slip, "Leave extended one day for urgent private business."
This was clearly one of Hubert's most decisive victories. He had
his day's extension solely in order to interview the politician
at 6 P.M.; he was to interview the politician solely in order to
obtain his day's extension. But Hubert insists morbidly that his
was a moral defeat, amounting to utter suppression. He called upon
the politician at 6 P.M. to thank him personally. Again he could
get no further than the secretary, who, learning that Hubert's
train would not depart at all that day, regretted that the
politician would, on second thoughts, be out for a week. "Now if
I really _had_ triumphed," said Hubert, "I should have got the
secretary to put that also in writing, and should have stepped
round to the War Office again to demand a further week's extension
on the strength of it." This, however, he did not do.

Yours ever, HENRY.

* * * * *

[Illustration: "GOOD 'EVINGS! WHERE YER GOIN'?"

"YE KEN YON THREE HUNS I JUST BROUGHT IN? WEEL, THEY WANT TO PLAY
WHIST, AN' I'M GOING BACK TO TRY AND PICK UP A FOURRTH."]

* * * * *

"Southport, December 9th.--Miss ---- presented vegetarian
literature and a box of vegetarian sausages to a Sale of Work in
connection with the United Methodist Church, High Park. The gifts
led to much thought and inquiry."--_Vegetarian Messenger_.

In spite of a natural disinclination to look a gift sausage in the
mouth.

* * * * *

A CALL TO THE COW PONIES.

They sent us from Coorong and Cooper
The pick of the Wallaby Track
To serve us as gunner and trooper,
To serve us as charger and hack;
From Budgeribar to Blanchewater
They rifled the runs of the West,
That whatever his fate in the slaughter
A man might ride home on the best.

We dealt with the distant Dominion,