***

In the Isle of Sheppey there is not a single person who is drawing the unemployment donation.  There seems to be no excuse whatever for this apathy.  Full particulars have appeared in the Press.

***

The embargo on the export of gold from the United States is to be raised almost immediately; meanwhile all shipments will be carefully watched, the stuff being now nearly worth its weight in coal.

***

County Tyrone has a dog specially trained to trace whiskey.  Several people in this country have already offered it a good home, where it will be treated as one of the family.

***

Asked to describe the cuckoo the other day, a small boy said it was the bird which put its eggs out to be laid by another bird.

***

At last an obliging taxi-driver has been discovered.  His clock registered six shillings and his passenger had only five-and-sixpence, so he offered to reverse his engine in order to wipe off the deficit.

***

We now hear that the authorities have decided that, if a child should fall into any lake or river and be in peril of drowning, any dog may be allowed to remove its muzzle for the purpose of effecting a rescue.

***

During the removal of a safe weighing three hundredweight some burglars last week used cushions and mats to deaden the sound.  We are greatly pleased to note a tendency to study residents a little.  After all it is most irritating to be awakened by noisy burglars in the house.

***

The No-Treating Order was revoked on June 4th, and it is generally expected that this date will be made an annual, public holiday in Scotland.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Small Bagsnatcher.  “Right-O, GUV’NOR.  I see Yer been wounded. I shan’t Knock ’Yer ABAHT.”]

* * * * *

  There was an impenitent duke
  Who would not submit to rebuke—­
      Not even from Smillie,
      But called him a wily
  Text-mongering Bolshi-Bazouk.

* * * * *

    “Personal.

    “Major C. ——­, late R.A.V.C., who is now disembodied, has returned
    to ——­, and will resume his practice as heretofore.”—­Yorkshire
    Observer.

Now then, Sir Oliver Lodge and Sir Arthur conan Doyle, get busy.

* * * * *

The Balaam Stakes.

They were speeding along in the train to the Dispersal Area, and, having moved heaven and earth to achieve demobilisation, were now absolutely miserable on nearing their goal.

“Like to pick your fancy for the Derby, Docker?” asked Jimmy Ferguson, proffering his daily paper with an air of acute cheerfulness.