As a result of the revival of the “Apes v. Angels” controversy, in which Canon BARNES has taken so prominent a part, and Mr. BOTTOMLEY has declared himself as a whole-hearted supporter of DARWIN (vide his article in The Sunday Pictorial), hands will be supple and boneless this autumn, as in fashionable portraits.  This reversion to the prehensile type of hand, so noticeable in the chimpanzee, has its drawbacks, and the rigidity necessary for certain manual functions, such as winding up a motor or opening a champagne bottle, will be furnished by gloves of a stiffer and stronger fabric, ranging from simulation leatherette to chain-mail.

Owing to the continued over-crowding of trains, tubes and motor-buses, elbows will be more prominent and aggressive than ever, and tailors are building a type of coat calculated to relieve the strain on this useful joint by a system of progressive padding, soft inside but resembling a nutmeg-grater at the point of contact with the enemy.

It only remains to be added that in consequence of the publication of the Jewish Protocol and other documents pointing to revolutionary and anarchical Semitic activities, noses will be worn straighter and a la Grecque, and for similar reasons feet will be shorter and with more uplift in the instep.

* * * * *

=A Hot Spell.=

From a story for boys:—­

“The heat was so intense that we were perspiring from every paw.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  SNOWED UNDER.

THE ST. BERNARD PUP (to his Master).  “THIS SITUATION APPEALS TO MY
HEREDITARY INSTINCTS.  SHALL I COME TO THE RESCUE?”

[Before leaving Switzerland Mr. LLOYD GEORGE purchased a St. Bernard pup.]]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Futurist to Brother Brush (after along country walk in search of a subject). “THIS IS RATHER JOLLY.  WHAT A RELIEF IT IS TO GET AMONGST THE REAL JAGGED STUFF.”]

* * * * *

THE OLD WOMAN’S HOUSE ROCK, SCILLY.

  “Old woman, old woman, old woman,” said I,
    “’Tis a mighty queer place to be building a home
    In the teeth of the gales and the wash of the foam,
  With nothing in view but the sea and the sky;
  It cannot be cheerful or healthy or dry. 
    Why don’t you go inland and rent a snug house,
    With fowls in the garden and blossoming boughs,
  Old woman, old woman, old woman?” said I.

    “A garden have I at my hand
      Beneath the green swell,
    With pathways of glimmering sand
      And borders of shell. 
    There twinkle the star-fish and there
      Red jellies unfold;
    The weed-banners ripple and flare
      All purple and gold. 
    And have I no poultry?  Oh, come