“How?” I asked, for I do not share Ernest’s opinion of his mastery of the French language, but he ignored this.

“It was dark down there,” he went on, “too dark for him to see that I was in a private’s uniform, so I put on a bit of side and he took me for an officer.”

“A French officer?”

“Very likely.  Anyway he found me a beautiful cabin with a lovely couch in it all covered with plush.  You would have thought I should want nothing but to be left to sleep; but no, I saw that the officer in the next cabin had a candle, and there was no candle for me.  Instantly my worst instincts were aroused.  I felt I was being put upon.  I demanded a candle.  The sailor declared there wasn’t one left.”

“You’re sure he understood what you were asking for?”

“Yes, I know that candle is boogy, thank you.  I argued with him for ten minutes and then turned in, grumbling.  Queer, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said.

I sat there for a while, thinking over Ernest’s story, which had, it seemed to me, something of the tract about it.

Later the midges began to attack us.

“Aren’t these midges absolutely—­” I began, and then stopped, remembering Ernest’s tract.  It only shows, as I said to Ernest, that we may learn something even from the most unlikely people.

* * * * *

“Wanted, a strong Boy, about 15 years old, for bottling, &c.  The Brewery, Brixham.”

The Western Guardian.

“Waiter, bring me a bottle of the boy.”

* * * * *

“... contest the right of the Spanish authorities to intern damaged submarines seeking refuse in neutral ports.”—­Star.

The Spanish authorities are expected to reply that if that is what the U-boats are after there is no need for them to leave home.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  First Artist. “BY GAD!  OLD PARSLEY’S SURPASSED HIMSELF.  LAMB CUTLETS, TWO CHOCOLATE CAKES AND THREE LUMPS OF SUGAR.  RATTLING GOOD SUBJECT.”

Second Artist. “I THOUGHT OF ONE NEARLY AS GOOD, BUT COULDN’T AFFORD THE MODELS.”]

* * * * *

HEART-TO-HEART TALKS.

(The GERMAN CROWN PRINCE and Fritz, his Valet.)

The Crown Prince (in bed and yawning). Is that you, Fritz?

Fritz. Yes, your Royal Highness.  What uniform shall I lay out for his Royal Highness?

The C.P. You can lay out the best I have—­the one of the Death’s Head Hussars, with all my stars and medals.  I am expecting an important visit.

Fritz (with a meaning smile). If I might venture so far, I would suggest to his Royal Highness that he should wear the Trench uniform, which I arranged with the bullet-holes and the mud-splashes.  It creates a greater effect, especially if the visitor be a lady.