{ white delicately—­manicured hand a silk handkerchief
{ none-too-clean hand an untidy brown-paper parcel which

{ of palest mauve, exquisitely scented. }
{ contained his luncheon (Restaurant strike). }

NOTE TO INTENDING AUTHORS.—­This is not supposed to be a complete story, but just gives you the idea.

* * * * *

AT PARIS PLAGE.

  Oft have I begged the high gods for a boon,
  That they would bear me from the Flanders slosh
  Back to a desert not made by the Bosch,
  The sunny Egypt that I left too soon. 
  O silvery nights beneath an Eastern moon! 
  O shirt-sleeved days!  O small infrequent wash! 
  O once again to see the nigger “nosh”
  The camel, rudely grunting (out of tune)! 
  Loudly I called; the high gods hearkened not
  Till came the signal and the big guns ceased;
  But then they brought me to this sea-kissed spot,
  Heeded my prayer and gave me back at least
  One of the pleasures that of old I knew,
  For here once more there’s sand within the stew.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  GIVING HIM ROPE?

GERMAN CRIMINAL (to Allied Police).  “HERE, I SAY, STOP!  YOU’RE HURTING ME! [Aside] IF I ONLY WHINE ENOUGH I MAY BE ABLE TO WRIGGLE OUT OF THIS YET.”]

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

Tuesday, February 11th.—­The KING’s Speech outlined a programme of legislation which would in the ordinary way occupy two or three Sessions.  But the Parliamentary machinery is to be ruthlessly speeded up and “a short cut to the Millennium” is to be discovered by way of the Committee-rooms.  Precisians observed with regret that the customary reference in the Speech to “economy” had by some oversight been omitted; and the prospective creation of several additional Departments led Lord CREWE to express apprehension lest the country should be “doped” with new Ministries, to the detriment of the national health.

[Illustration:  THE OPPOSITION FREAK.

THE ADAMSON-MACLEAN COMBINATION.]

“Where are they gone, the old familiar faces?” was the question one asked oneself on looking at the crowded benches of the House of Commons.  It was said of a Past President of the United States that he was the politest man in America—­“he gave up his seat in a street-car and made room for four ladies.”  The gap made on the Front Opposition Bench by the involuntary retirement of Mr. ASQUITH—­to which generous allusion was made by the PRIME MINISTER—­is so vast that the joint efforts of Sir DONALD MACLEAN and Mr. ADAMSON to fill it met with only partial success.  Unless, by the way, Mr. SPEAKER definitely decides the problem of precedence, it is to be feared that the hoped-for acceleration of business will not occur, for at present each of them thinks it necessary to speak whenever the other does, like the hungry lions on Afric’s burning shore.  For all their outward politeness I am sure “the first lion thinks the last a bore”; and if they insist on roaring together much longer the House will think it of both of them.