MR. BALFOUR HEWS OFF AT
  DURHAM

is another headline which seems to suggest itself, and I should strongly urge the PRIME MINISTER, who has returned, I hear, with a St. Bernard from the Alps, to lose no time in selecting a more appropriate playmate.

  PREMIER AT TONYPANDY. 
  MR. LLOYD GEORGE PATS PET
  PIT-PONY

is the kind of thing I mean, and very hard also to say six times quickly without making a mistake.

Obviously the result of all this would be that not only would the miners be justified in asking for more money, but that the country would be able to afford it; and similar competitive leagues, to supersede trade unions, would soon be formed by other trades.  One seems to hear faintly the loud plaudits of the onlookers as two crack teams of West-end road-menders step smartly into the arena....

EVOE.

* * * * *

=Our Bolshevik Colonies.=

    “Married Shepherd, used hilly country and all farm and station
    work, desires Situation; wife would cook one or two men.”

“The Press,” Christchurch, N.Z.

    “Miss ——­, a soubrette, whose songs lean towards the voluptuous,
    sank ‘Somebody’s Baby.’  Her encore number, ‘You’d be Surprised,’
    was even more so.”

“The Dominion,” Wellington, N.Z.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Woodland Sprite (from Stepney, to eminent botanist). “PLEASE, MISTER, MAGGIE WANTS TO KNOW WHAT YOU CHARGE FOR TAKING TWINS?”]

* * * * *

THE PASSING OF THE CRADLE.

    [According to a report which recently appeared in a daily paper,
    cradles for infants are becoming a thing of the past.]

  Snug retreat for mother’s treasure,
    Shall I pine as I repeat
  Rumour’s strange report, which says you’re
    Virtually obsolete? 
  Shall these lips a doleful lyric
    Proffer at your ghostly bier,
  Or compose a panegyric
    Moistened with a minstrel’s tear?

  Me the theme leaves too unshaken,
    Though “some” father more or less;
  Better ’twere if undertaken
    By my wife (a poetess);
  And, if I be asked, Why vainly
    Occupy, then, so much space? 
  My concern, I’ll say, is mainly
    With the woman in the case.

  For, when she and you shall sever
    (Though ’tis early yet to crow),
  Your departure may for ever
    Lay her proudest triumph low;
  Yes, while men (I’m much afraid) ’ll
    Round her fingers still be twirled,
  If her hand can’t rock a cradle
    It may cease to boss the world.

* * * * *

=Commercial Candour.=

    “Irate Householders, why be swindled in a clumsy manner?  Fetch
    your second-hand clothing to me and be done in the most approved
    style.”—­Daily Paper.