“This peace business,” said Mr. Daily to him—­“Peace must be signed! How’s that for a new stunt?  Cut out ‘The Soldiers’ Paper’ and call ourselves ‘The Paper that gets Peace.’  Get the boys together, work out a scheme and come and show us in half-an-hour.”

“But, Daily, is there any likelihood of peace not being signed?” asked Mr. Maily, when the editor had gone.

“For goodness’ sake, Maily, pull yourself together.  Don’t you understand that one of the principles of our job is to back certs?” said Mr. Daily.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Manager of Kinema Theatre (referring to the two turbulent members of audience who have been ejected).  “HOW DID THE QUARREL COMMENCE?”

Doorkeeper.  “THEY WERE FIGHTING, SIR, ABOUT WHICH OF THEM THE GIRL IN THE PICTURE WAS WINKING AT.”]

* * * * *

LINES TO A LEGIONARY.

(MEMBERS OF THE NEW CORPS OF DOMESTIC SERVANTS ARE CALLED LEGIONARIES.)

  Sole hope of this my household, martial maid
    Whom ordered ranks and discipline austere
  Have shaped (I gather) for a braver trade,
    So that respect, not all unmixed with fear,
    Informs my breast as I await you here,
  Your title, with its stern Caesarian touch,
  Does, to be frank, alarm me very much.

  Come not, I pray you, to my casual home
    (Where moulting cats usurp the best arm-chair)
  With the harsh practices of Ancient Rome,
    The brow severe, the you-be-careful air
    Which (on the film) all legionaries wear;
  My dream is just a regulated ease;
  Rules, if you like, but not too stringent, please.

  Come not with rude awakenings, nor request
    That I at stated hours must rise and feed;
  I like my morning slumber much the best
    And hate a life by drastic laws decreed
    (I’m not a Persian born, nor yet a Mede);
  No, but with step demure and tactful come,
  And if soft music greet you, oh, be dumb!

  In careless comfort let my days be spent! 
    And, maiden, mutual happiness shall reign;
  The crash of crockery I’ll not lament
    Nor (when I fain would sing) will I complain
    Though you should raise the far from dulcet strain;
  But with a sweet content I’ll bless the day
  My legionary came, and came to stay.

* * * * *

    “LOST, large retriever dog, flat-coated; when pleased or
    expectant he grins, showing all his teeth; information leading
    to his recovery will be rewarded.”—­Glasgow Herald.

It is supposed that he has been studying the portraits of “Variety” ladies in the illustrated papers.

* * * * *

    “He must, said Mr. Thomas, urge men to recognise that, in the
    present state of the country, it was imperative that soppages
    should be avoided.”—­Liverpool Paper.