I am, dear old fellow,
      Always yours to command,
          WILLIAM WOOD

Having written thus far, Mr. William Wood went to bed, perfectly at peace with himself and the world.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Friend (to Professor, whose lecture, “How to Stop the War,” has just concluded).  “CONGRATULATE YOU, OLD MAN—­WENT SPLENDIDLY, AT ONE TIME DURING THE AFTERNOON I WAS RATHER ANXIOUS FOR YOU.”

Professor. “THANKS.  BUT I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN SO CONCERNED ON MY BEHALF.”

Friend. “WELL, A RUMOUR DID GO ROUND THE ROOM THAT THE WAR WOULD BE OVER BEFORE YOUR LECTURE.” ]

* * * * *

THE GREAT BETRAYAL.

  ’Twas night, and near the Boreal cliff
    The monarch in seclusion lay,
  A wondrous human hieroglyph,
    Worshipped from Chile to Cathay;
  When lo! a cry, “Sire, up and fly! 
    The pirate ships are in the bay!”

  “Begone, ye cravens,” straight replied
    The monarch with his eyes ablaze;
  “No pirate on the ocean wide
    Can fright me, for I know their ways. 
  Shall I do less in times of stress
    Than soldiers who have earned My praise?

  “Yet stay,” he paused awhile, and then—­
    “Let messengers the country scour
  On pain of death forbidding men
    To speak, in hut or hall or tower,
  Of what I said this night of dread,
    Or where I spent its darkest hour.”

  Swift flew the minions to obey;
    The wearied monarch slumbered late;
  Yet, in the Capital next day,
    Writ large upon his palace gate,
  A mighty scroll to every soul
    Blazoned the words that challenged Fate.

  The monarch’s rage surpassed all bounds
    When of this treachery he read;
  A price of several million pounds
    Was placed upon the miscreant’s head;
  But sceptics jibe—­an odious tribe—­
    And swear that he will die in bed.

* * * * *

A New Way to Pay Old Debts.

“The Inventor of British and American Patents is desirous to Sell or License to Manufacturers, &c., &c....  The above Inventor and Patentee will be greatly obliged if anyone that he owes money to will forward the amount not later than this month, otherwise he will not acknowledge after.”—­Financial Times.

* * * * *

    “LITTLE WAR PICTURES. 
    A NOBLE ARMY OF OPTIMISTS IN TRANCE.”—­Straits Times (Singapore).

We wish our pessimists would join them.

* * * * *

THE WATCH DOGS.

LVII.

My Dear Charles,—­St. John, in 1914 a light-hearted lieut., advancing and retiring with his platoon as an all-seeing Providence or a short-spoken Company Commander might direct, and in 1915 a Brass-hat with a vast amount of knowledge and only a hundred buff slips or so to write it down on, is now Second in Command of his regiment.  He tells me he is encamped with his little lot on the forward slope of a muddy and much pitted ravine.  On the opposite slope are some nasty noisy guns, and at the bottom of the ravine are the cookers.