Now here again I think it would be quite possible to induce the people of England in our large industrial centres to ration themselves on boiled herring and bird-seed.  We should not use those names, of course.  The advertisements on the hoardings would say:—­

  THE BOUNTIFUL HARVEST OF THE SEA BROUGHT TO THE BREAKFAST TABLE

or

  WHAT MAKES THE SKYLARK SO HAPPY? 
  TRY HARRABY’S HEMP.  A SONG IN EVERY SPOONFUL.

But propaganda of that sort would have no effect on Jane.  She would simply say that she never cared to touch herrings and that she did not fancy hemp-seed.

When I consider the cases of George and Jane I am bound to believe either that the Russian moujiks (if this is still the right word) are more docile and tractable than ours, or else that the Soviet regime will need a great deal of adaptation before it can be extended to our English villages.  Or, of course, it may be possible that some of the minuter details of M. LENIN’S administration have not been fully revealed to me.  I shall find out about this no doubt when I return to London.  In the meantime I am banking on George and Jane, whatever the COUNCIL OF ACTION may do.

EVOE.

* * * * *

THE OLD ORDER CHANGES.

    “‘He brightened up a lot when his mother-in-law arrived,’ said an
    onlooker.—­“Provincial Paper.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Wee Donald Angus. “PLEASE, SIRR, WHAT TIME WULL IT BE?”

Literal Gentleman. “WHEN?”]

* * * * *

LUCERNE.

  O, every dog must have its day
    And ev’ry town its turn;
  For fair is fair ... and, anyway,
    Let’s talk about Lucerne.

Lucerne is in Switzerland, and I am in Lucerne.  The moment I heard that Mr. LLOYD GEORGE was coming to Lucerne I felt that a new importance was added to Switzerland, to Lucerne, to me and, if I may say so, to Mr. LLOYD GEORGE.  But I felt that, if I didn’t do something about it, Lucerne and Mr. LLOYD GEORGE would get away with all the credit and my part in the affair would be overlooked.

The question arose as to what to call that “something”?  After a great deal of thought I decided to try you with a short and simple “Lucerne,” one of my reasons being that, if you get down to the hard facts, there is no such place.

Try (as the G.P.O. suggests to disappointed envelopes)—­try

  LUZERN.

Now don’t let us have any argument about it, please.  It makes no difference how long you have called the place “Lucerne” or how many of you there are.  It is no good saying that English people and French people call it “Lucerne” and as victors the Entente have the right to impose their wishes; and it is no good quoting authorities at me.  Luzern calls itself Luzern, and, to satisfy myself that it is not mistaken on the point, I have obtained complete corroboration from the Amtliches Schweizerisches Kursbuch, an authority whose very name is enough to make your Bradshaw look silly and shut up.