ned with plenty of wit;
He's alert as a cat-fish; he can't be ignored;
And throughout his recital we never are bored.

For he's not a mere slinger of partisan ink,
But a thinker who gives us profoundly to think;
And his arguments cannot be lightly dismissed
With cries of "Pro-Hun" or of "Pacificist."

And yet there are faults to be found all the same;
For example, I doubt if it's playing the game
For one who is hardly unmuzzled to guy
Representative statesmen who cannot reply.

And while we're amused by his caustic dispraise
Of President WILSON'S Chadbandian ways,
Of the cynical TIGER, laconic and grim,
And our versatile PREMIER, so supple and slim--

Still we feel, as he zealously damns the Allies
For grudging the Germans the means to arise,
That possibly some of the Ultimate Things
May even be hidden from Fellows of King's.

* * * * *

"The ---- Male Voice Choir and St. ----'s Brass Band discorded Xmas
music."--_Local Paper._

We shouldn't wonder.

* * * * *

"Another element in the industrial activity of Japan, which is brought
forcibly home to the Westerner, is the obvious pleasure that the
Japanese people take in doing the work which is allotted to them. It is
no uncommon sight to see men laughing merrily as they drag along their
heavy merchandise, or singing as they swing their anvils in a manner
almost reminiscent of the historic village blacksmith."--_Provincial
Paper._

And "children coming home from school" know better than to "look in at the
open door."

* * * * *

[Illustration: "GRANDFATHER, I SIMPLY LOVE YOUR NICE LONG BEARD. PROMISE ME
YOU'LL NEVER HAVE IT BOBBED."]

* * * * *

THE EGOIST.

On Monday morning Hereward Vale left home in an unsettled state of mind.
That was putting it mildly. He was thoroughly unhappy. Something was up--he
couldn't tell what--or whether it was his own fault or Mary's. Anyhow, it
didn't seem to matter whose fault it was. The thing had happened. That was
the one overwhelming idea that concerned him. The first shadow had fallen;
their record of complete and perfect happiness was broken.

The road to the station was a long and particularly beautiful one. Hereward
had always appreciated every inch of it. But to-day he hated it. He hated
the way the yew-trees droo