ited her on her one-hundred-and-sixth birthday. As,
however, she is experiencing some difficulty in obtaining the consent of
her parents the affair may possibly fall through.

* * *

Much sympathy is felt for the scrum-half who will be unable to assist his
team this month on account of being severely crocked whilst helping his
wife at the Winter sales.

* * *

The London policeman who went across to Ireland for his Christmas holiday
is still under strict observation by mental experts.

* * *

We hear that the Congo Government have now decided that all Brontosauri
must in future carry a red front light and a green rear light when
travelling at night-time.

* * *

The War Office is said to be making preparations to abolish the Tank Corps.
It appears that the Major-General who recently drove from Whitehall to
Tothill Street in one of these vehicles has reported unfavourably upon
them, saying that he never got a wink of sleep the whole time.

* * *

A remarkable echo of Armageddon is reported from the Wimbledon district. A
subscriber was rung up the other day by "Trunks" and asked if he still
wished to say good-bye to himself before leaving for the Somme.

* * *

Thistles do more damage to agriculture than rats, declared the
Montgomeryshire Agricultural Executive Committee. Stung by this
uncalled-for attack on his national vegetable a Scotchman writes to say
that within his knowledge more arable land has been laid waste by leeks
than by any other noxious weed.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Professor's Wife._ "SEPTIMUS, THE THAW HAS BURST THE
PIPES."

_Professor._ "NO, NO, MARIE. AS I'VE HAD OCCASION TO EXPLAIN TO YOU EVERY
YEAR SINCE I CAN REMEMBER, IT'S THE FROST THAT BURSTS THE PIPES--_NOT_ THE
THAW."]

* * * * *

FASHIONS FOR MEN.

["Who will help the Disposal Board by starting some new fashion that
would enable it to get rid of a great consignment of kilts as worn by
the London Scottish, the Royal Scots and the Highland Light Infantry?"
--_Mrs. KELLAWAY on the Disposal Board's "Curiosity Shop."_]

There are who hanker for a touch of colour,
So to relieve their sombre air;
For me, I like my clothes to be much duller
Than what the nigger minstrels wear;
I hold by sable, drab and grey;
I do not wish to be a popinjay.

In vain my poor imagination grapples
With these new lines in fancy shades,
T