tion: MANNERS AND MODES.

THEN AND NOW.

[_From an Early-Victorian pocket "Etiquette for Gentlemen."_--"During the
morning hours a gentleman visitor who neither shoots, reads, writes letters
nor does anything but idle about the house and chat with the ladies is an
intolerable nuisance. Sooner than become the latter he had better retire to
the billiard-room and practise cannons by himself."]]

* * * * *

TELEPHONE TACTICS.

It is now some months since the great autumn offensive was conducted with
the idea of biting off an awkward salient in my circumstances--in brief, of
obtaining the necessary telephone to enable me to commence an ordered
existence. For many, many days my voice had been unheard crying in the
wilderness that I was a poor demobilised soldier, that I had once had a
telephone and had given it up at my country's call, and please couldn't
they give me back even my old, old telephone again? I have already told how
in response to these very human appeals I at length got only a request for
the balance due for calls for 1914. My old friend Time, however, worked his
proverbial wonders and one day a telephone came--phit! like that.

Directly it had come I suspected a trap somewhere. Nor were my friends
behindhand in telling me of the horrors of gigantic and inexorable bills
from which there was no appeal. They said I must have a coin-box. Excellent
idea! I would have a coin-box.

So the great Spring offensive began. In early February I opened a strong
barrage upon the main headquarters (how lovingly these ancient military
metaphors come back to one!) and kept up a little light harassing fire upon
the District Agent. The enemy replied with rigid uniformity upon printed
forms--a mean advantage, for I have to type mine myself. But matters
progressed. At the end of the first fortnight I had been advised that the
work of installing my coin-box had been entrusted to no fewer than three
groups of engineers, "to whom you should refer in all cases."

Well, I "referred" for some little time, and then, after a decent interval,
made their acquaintance separately. If anything was calculated to bring
back memories of the lighter side of the War it was the gracious and suave
manner in which I despatched and redespatched to other departments. I might
have been the buffest of buff slips the way I was "passed to you, please."

Once again I cancelled all my work in the pursuit of where the rainb