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“THE DOVER PATROL.

    VINDICTIVE MEN AS PROGRAMME SELLERS.”—­Times.

After what men have suffered from the flag-day sex, no wonder they get vindictive when they have a chance of retaliation.

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“The causes of the engineers’ strike in London are a little obscure, but the stoppage of the ten minutes allowed for tea before the 47-hour day was introduced brought the men out from one motor works.”—­Provincial Paper.

The great objection to a day of this length is that it gives so little scope for overtime.

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“The Association for the Betterment of the Highlands and Islands of the Free Church of Scotland have prepared and presented to the Secretary for Scotland a memorandum on the reconstruction of the Highlands.”—­Scots Paper.

We have always thought that judicious thinning of the more congested views would help the tourist.

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    “The men who had watched the daily search set up a cheer,
    ffi——­ ——­fl.”—­Sunday Paper.

We hope the cheer was more hearty than it appears at first sight.

* * * * *

A CONSULTATION.

Persons of the dialogue:  Arthur Pillwell, M.D., a fashionable physician; Henry Swallow, a patient.  The scene is laid in Dr. Pillwell’s consulting-room—­a solid room, heavily furnished.  A large writing-table occupies the centre of the scene.  There are a few prints on the walls; two bookcases are solidly filled with medical books. Dr. Pillwell is seated at the writing-table.  He rises to greet his patient.

Dr. P. Good morning, Mr. ——­ (He looks furtively at a notebook lying open on the table) Mr.—­ah—­Swallow.

Mr. S. (thinking to himself:  Ought I to call this Johnnie “Doctor,” or not?  I’m told they’re very particular about a thing like that.  Like a fool, I never gave it a thought.  Still, I can’t go so very far wrong if I call him “Doctor.”  Besides, he’s got to be called “Doctor” whether he likes it or not.  Here goes.) (Aloud) Good morning, Dr. Pillwell.  I’ve been troubled with some symptoms which I can’t quite make out.  I think I described them in my letter. (To himself:  They made several doctors Knights of the British Empire, and I’m almost certain Pillwell was one of them.  Sir John Pillwell.  Yes, it sounds all right; but I shan’t call him “Sir John” because if he isn’t a knight he might think I was trying to make fun of him and then he might retaliate by calling me “Sir Henry,” and I should hate that). (Aloud) The chief symptoms are a steady loss of appetite and a disinclination to work.  I was recommended to consult you by my friend, Mr. Bolter, as I think I explained in my letter.