That was all.

John Hodge is now soberly awaiting demobilisation, and will not have to wait long.

Randle Janvers Binderbeck is secretly consoling himself by writing the most denunciatory articles.  They will never be published, but they afford an alternative to cocaine.

He feels that he can never again consent to sway public opinion as the west wind, etc., in the interests of a nation which rates him forty groups lower than an animated scarecrow.

It is the nation’s own fault, Randle is blameless.

* * * * *

A NOISY SALUTE.

From a review of The Remembered Kiss, in The Westminster Gazette:—­

“It would be doing Miss Ayres an injustice to suppose that there is only one kiss to remember in the whole of her novel, but the one which gives its title is bestowed by a young and handsome burglar, and received by a girl who mistook the noise he was making for a thunders torm.”

As TENNYSON says in The Day-Dream:  “O love, thy kiss would wake the dead!”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Father (bringing son home from party).  “WELL, OLD CHAP, WERE THERE PLENTY OF LITTLE GIRLS FOR YOU TO DANCE WITH?”

Son (rather proud of himself).  “OH, THERE WERE SOME KIDS ABOUT, BUT I DANCED WITH A GIRL OF SIXTEEN—­AND, BY JOVE, SHE LOOKED IT.”]

* * * * *

FREAKS OF FOOD-CONTROL.

  Though Mrs. Midas shows a righteous zeal
  In preaching self-control at every meal,
  She never in her stately home forgets
  To cater freely for her precious pets.

  On cheese and soup she feeds her priceless “Pekie”—­
  Stilton and Cheddar, Bortch and Cocky-leekie;
  And Max, her shrill-voiced “Pom,” politely begs
  For his diurnal dole of new-laid eggs.

  Semiramis, her noble Persian cat,
  Threatens to grow inelegantly fat
  Upon asparagus and Shaker oats,
  With milk provided by two special goats.

  Meanwhile her governess subsists on greens,
  Canned conger-eel or cod and butter-beans,
  And often in a black ungrateful mood
  Envies the dogs and cat their daintier food.

* * * * *

“On one side was the naval guard of honour—­splendid men from the ships of the Dover Patrol—­and on the other side a military guard from the Garrison with the band of the Buffs waiting to play President Wilson into England with ’The tar-spangled Banner.’”—­Provincial Paper.

A pretty compliment to the naval escort.

* * * * *

THE MUD LARKS.

Our Mr. MacTavish is a man with a past.  He is now a cavalry subaltern and he was once a sailor.  As a soldier at sea is never anything but an object of derision to sailors, correspondingly the mere idea of a sailor on horseback causes the utmost merriment among soldiers.