folk-song at the Doctor’s request.  The Junior Watchkeeper, declaring his inability to remember anything, read half a column from the “Situations Vacant” portion of The Times, and amid the ensuing applause slipped quietly from the room in obedience to an unspoken signal from the First Lieutenant.  After the Second Engineer had given an exhibition of what he asserted to be an Eskimo tribal dance, the First Lieutenant addressed the Assistant Paymaster.

“Now then, young fellow, it is your turn.  D’you want to give us a yarn?”

But the boy had learned his lesson.  “I’m afraid I don’t know any yarns that would interest you, Sir,” he said.  “If you don’t mind I think I’ll turn in.”

The First Lieutenant smiled on him with the mature wisdom of twenty-seven summers.  “Quite right, my lad.  By the way, you might look in at the bath-room on the way to your cabin and tell the Junior Watchkeeper that we shan’t want the bath that he is filling from the cold tap.  I’m very glad we shan’t.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Jack (who has been bowled by a ball which kept very low):  “BLOOMIN’ U-BOAT TACTICS!”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Voice from gallery (during grave-digger scene in “Hamlet"). “AIN’T YER GOING TO ’AVE NO PARAPET?”]

* * * * *

    “Now is the opportunity for carrying out the recommendation of a
    Select Committee in 1908 that there should be a common gallery for
    men and women.”—­The Vote.

A sort of Mixed Grille, in fact.

* * * * *

    “Wanted, Upper Housemaid of two; wages L30; 5 maids; two ladies in
    family; quiet country place.”—­Daily Paper.

Who said our upper classes are not feeling the War?

* * * * *

    “Required, very small nicely Furnished House or Cottage. 
    Bathroom and good private girls’ school within easy walk
    essential.”—­Daily Paper.

There is nothing so invigorating as a little walk before one’s bath.

* * * * *

SEMPER EADEM.

  A prisoner, Gunner Grogan, E.,
  To-day will be brought up to me
    For impudence and sloth;
  Reveille only made him sneer;
  Aroused, he lipped a Bombardier
    (And very natural—­both).

  And I shall counter, with disdain,
  His feeble efforts to explain
    Or justify such deeds. 
  It will be funny if I fail
  To twist young Gunner Grogan’s tail,
    That being what he needs.

  I know he isn’t really bad;
  Myself, I rather like the lad. 
    (And loathe that Bombardier!)
  Beneath his buttons—­none too bright—­
  May lurk the spirit of a knight—­
    A thwarted cavalier.