How shall I describe the painful scene that followed—­a scene in which, as a mere Tommy, I had too much discipline to intervene?  In vain the obsequious purveyor of tickets offered a selection of the world’s most popular and celebrated operas for any other day but Monday.  Nothing would do for my officer but Keine Vorstellung.  Indeed, as he explained in his best and loudest English, Monday was his only free evening. Keine Vorstellung he wanted and Keine Vorstellung he must have.  Followed reiteration, expostulation, vituperation in yet louder English than before, and when at last he turned away without his ticket he was still convinced that the authority of the Britische Besatzung had been outraged and defied by the man behind the window.

I often wonder what he said when the precise meaning of those two mystic words was revealed, to him.  I like to think that it may have happened at the Requisition Office, whither he had gone to procure an order to compel that recalcitrant square-head to supply him with the ticket so unwarrantably withheld.

* * * * *

    “Wanted a good Cook; kitchen-maid kept; small fairy.”—­Provincial
    Paper.

It is pleasant to come upon a really appreciative mistress.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Little Girl (to Bride at wedding reception). “YOU DON’T LOOK NEARLY AS TIRED AS I SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT.”

Bride. “DON’T I, DEAR?  BUT WHY DID YOU THINK I SHOULD LOOK TIRED?”

Little Girl. “WELL, I HEARD MUMMY SAY TO DAD THAT YOU’D BEEN RUNNING AFTER MR. GOLDMORE FOR MONTHS AND MONTHS.”]

* * * * *

PTERO-DACTYLS.

(OF THE PIONEERS OF THE AIR.)

  Daedalus, once in the island of Crete,
    Finding his host tried to limit his scenery,
  Foiled in his efforts to flee on his feet,
    Went and invented some flying machinery;
  Then, when he thought it was time to make tracks
    Free from pursuit, for he felt he could dodge any,
  Brought out his wings, which he fastened with wax,
    Fitting another pair on to his progeny;
  So, if the legend to credence can wheedle us,
  First of air-pilots was old Father Daedalus.

  Just a few kicks and they’re off in full sail
    (Science of old wasn’t hard on her votary,
  So little mention you find in the tale
    Made of propeller or joy-stick or rotary);
  Silently skimming along in the air
    Spoke the paternal and prototype pioneer,
  “Mind that your altitude’s low, and beware
    Fiery Phoebus you don’t go and fly a-near!”
  Cautious the counsel, but Icarus flouted it,
  Flew in the face of his father and scouted it.