We can almost hear the printer’s teeth chattering.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Mother. “SO YOU’RE THE BOTTOM BOY OF YOUR CLASS.  AREN’T YOU ASHAMED OF YOURSELF?”

Peter. “BUT, MOTHER, IT’S NOT MY FAULT.  THE BOY WHO’S ALWAYS BOTTOM IS AWAY ILL.”]

* * * * *

FIRST LINES.

After having spent an hour or so with WORDSWORTH’S sonnets I found my head so full of his sonorous adjuratory music that when in the middle of the night I woke as usual—­from three to four is the worst time—­my wooing of reluctant sleep took on a new fashion, and instead of repeating verses I made them.  But I only once proceeded farther than the first line.  Anybody who finds pleasure in poetic pains may add the other thirteen; to me such a task would savour of bad luck.  Here, however, are some of my brave Rydalesque beginnings, with titles:—­

To the ASSISTANT CONTROLLER of FOOD, wishing him success.

JONES, who wouldst keep potatoes for the poor—­

To the Ex-PREMIER, now in very active retirement.

ASQUITH, till recently our honoured head—­

To a prominent K.C. who has become First Lord of the Admiralty.

CARSON, who latterly hast taken salt—­

To an Ex-Minister for Foreign Affairs, on a bed of sickness.

GREY, who wouldst Represent Proportionally—­

To a Second-in-Command.

BONAR, who speakest for the absent GEORGE—­

To the PRIME MINISTER, on a notable innovation.

GEORGE, who receivest Yankee journalists—­

To the KAISER.

WILHELM, who dost thy damnedst every day—­

To the CROWN PRINCE.

Namesake of mine, but O how different!

To an Ex-Colonel.

WINSTON, whose fighting days, alas! seem o’er—­

To an assiduous Watcher of the literary skies.

SHORTER, who tellest readers what to think—­

I then essayed two lines:—­

          To an Incorrigible Wag.

  SHAW, who, in khaki, with that gingery beard,
  Joyous and independent scann’dst the Front—­

With this effort I fell asleep.

* * * * *

DAWN OF HUMOUR IN SCOTLAND.

    “Summer time begins at 2 a.m. on Sunday morning.  Clocks should be put
    back an hour on Saturday night.”—­Ross-shire Journal.

* * * * *

THE SECRET OF LONGEVITY.

    “The death occurred on Friday of Mr. ——­, at the age of 94.  Deceased
    had liver through the reigns of George IV., William IV., Victoria,
    Edward VII.”—­Provincial Paper.

* * * * *

From a picture-dealer’s advertisement:—­

    “Corot got originally 500 francs for his painting of ‘The Angelus,’
    which ultimately brought 800,000 francs.”—­The British Magazine
    (Buenos Aires).