one the downward way,
And O my poor, my poor beloved RAMSAY;
I much regret the rout
That washed this couple absolutely out!"

Dreadfully, too, the heart of TROTSKY bleeds,
To match the stain upon his reeking sabre,
Which is the blood of Russia, when he reads
How BARNES, the champion knight of loyal Labour,
Downed in the Lowland lists
MACLEAN, the Red Hope of the Bolshevists.

But here is jubilation in the air
And matter made to build the jocund rhyme on,
Though in our joyance some may fail to share,
Like Mr. RUNCIMAN or Major SIMON,
That hardened warrior, he
Who won the Military O.B.E.

Already dawns for us a golden age
(Lo! with the loud "All Clear!" our paean mingles),
An era when the OUTHWAITES cease to rage
And there is respite from the prancing PRINGLES,
And absence puts a curb
On the reluctant lips of SAMUEL (HERB.).

O.S.

* * * * *

HOW TO THROW OFF AN ARTICLE.

"Do you really write?" said Sylvia, gazing at me large-eyed with
wonder. I admitted as much.

"And do they print it just as you write it?"

"Well, their hired grammarians make a few trifling alterations to
justify their existence."

"And do they pay you quite a lot?"

"Sixpence a word."

"Oo! How wonderful!"

"But not for every word," I added hastily, "only the really funny
ones."

"And they send it to you by cheques?"

"Rather. I bought a couple of pairs of socks with the last story;
even then I had something left over."

"And how do you write the stories?"

"Oh, just get an idea and go right ahead."

"How wonderful! Do you just sit down and write it straight off?"

I just--only just--pulled myself up in time as I remembered that
Sylvia was an enthusiast of twelve whose own efforts had already
caused considerable comment in the literary circles described
round the High School. I felt this entitled her to some claim on
my veracity.

"Sylvia," I cried, "I shall have to make a confession. All those
stories you have been good enough to read and occasionally smile over
are the result of a cold-blooded mechanical process--and the help of
a dictionary of synonyms."

"Oo! How wonderful! Do show me how."

"Very well. Since you are going to be a literary giantess it is well
that you should be initiated into the mysteries of producing what I
shall call the illusion of spontaneity. Now take this story here. Here
on this old