Dear Freddy,—­I am afraid you have got hold of the wrong end of the stick and laid an egg in a mare’s nest. [These mixed metaphors were designed to tease him into a further barrage.] I did not write, and I do not remember saying that I had written, the letter to the paper which seems to have given you as much pleasure as it has given me.  I had no hand in the symposium, but the way you have brought your Chesterfield battery into action has been so masterly that I, for one, can never regret that you were misinformed.  I believe the particular letter to The Gazette was written by one of the staff, a native of the place, who probably carved his name on the base in his youth, and has felt a personal interest in the Cross ever since.  I hope with this new light on the affair you will favour me with your further views on history and archaeology.

Yours ever, Harry.

How lovely the blackberries are looking after the rain!

But I couldn’t draw Petherton’s fire again, for his gun had been knocked out by this direct hit.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Excitable Lady (describing to wounded Tommies the appearance of a bomb-hole on the London Front). “You could have buried a horse in it.  You never saw such a thing in your life!”]

* * * * *

SUGAR CONTROL.

Thanks to the new sugar regulations we now expect half a pound of sugar per head per week instead of half a pound of sugar per head per-haps.

* * * * *

    “HOGS STILL SOARING.”
    Headline in Canadian Paper.

The shortage of petrol seems to have driven them from the roads.

* * * * *

    “Sir John Hare declares that there is no truth in the statement
    that he is saying ‘——­’ to the stage.”—­Bournemouth Echo.

Personally, we never believed that he would be guilty of such language.

* * * * *

    “The only thing which will actually bring peace is an army of
    occupation standing on its own flat feet, either in Germany or
    on the German frontier.”—­Weekly Dispatch.

But why this preference for the flat-footed?  Are not the hammer-toed to have a chance?

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE DANCE OF DEATH.

THE KAISER.  “STOP!  STOP!  I’M TIRED.”

DEATH.  “I STARTED AT YOUR BIDDING; I STOP WHEN I CHOOSE.”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Officer.  “I SAY—­LOOK HERE.  I TOLD YOU TO GO TO PADDINGTON, AND YOU’RE GOING IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION.”

Taxi-Driver.  “ORL RIGHT—­ORL RIGHT!  YOU’RE LUCKY TO GET A CAB AT ALL INSTEAD OF GRUMBLIN’ ABAHT WHERE YER WANTS TER GO TO!”]

* * * * *