The Second Reading of the new Military Service Bill brought a storm of accusations against the Government for having broken its election-pledges.  Had not the PRIME MINISTER and his colleagues gone to the country on a cry of “No Conscription”?  The Member for Derby was particularly emphatic in his denunciation; but Mr. CHURCHILL effectively countered him by quoting Mr. THOMAS’S own translation of the pledges in question as meaning “Militarism and Conscription.”

A little rift within the Coalition lute was revealed when Mr. SHAW remarked that some people seemed to want “to make this country a fit place for casuists to live in;” but the House as a whole took the view that without an assured peace it would be no place for any one, and passed the Second Reading by an overwhelming majority.

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[Illustration:  Conductor.  “OUTSIDE ONLY!”]

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THE SENTINELS.

  Up and down the nurs’ry stair
    All through the night
  There are Fairy Sentinels
    Watching till it’s light;
  If they ever went to sleep
    The Big Clock would tell;
  But, Left-Right!  Left-Right! 
    They know their duty well;
  I needn’t mind a Bogey or a Giant or a Bear,
  The Sentinels are watching on the nurs’ry stair!

  Up and down the nurs’ry stair
    All through the day
  There the Fairy Sentinels
    Sleep the time away;
  If you were to wake them up,
    Think how tired they’d be,
  So Tip-toe!  Tip-toe! 
    Go upstairs quietly. 
  Yes, that’s the very reason we have carpets on the stair—­
  The Sentinels are sleeping, and we must take care.

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[Illustration:  She.  “THEY SAY THE VICAR TALKS IN HIS SLEEP.”

He.  “VERY LIKELY.  HE TALKS IN MINE.”]

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THE SPACE PROBLEM.

  The sad queues shiver in the drains
    And do not get upon the bus;
  Men battle round successive trains,
    And each is yet more populous;
  Twelve times a week I pay the fare,
    But know not when I last sat down;
  It almost looks as if there were
    Too many people in the town.

  I know not where they all may dwell;
    I know my lease is up in May;
  I know I said, “Oh, very well,
    I’ll take a house down Dorking way;”
  I scoured the spacious countryside,
    I found no residence to spare,
  And it is not to be denied
    There are too many people there.

  They say the birth-rate’s sadly low;
    They say the death-rate tends to soar;
  So how we manage I don’t know
    To go on growing more and more;
  Let statistology prefer
    To think the race is nice and small,
  But how do all these crowds occur,
    And who the dickens are they all?