You will note that he said “we.”  Co-operation again.  I assure you I glowed with pleasure to think I had been of so much assistance.

I had hardly got back to my letter when we started off again.

“Well, that’s my morning’s work done—­no, it isn’t—­yes, no, by Jove, there’s a code word for No. 237 Filtration Unit to be thought out.  No, I shan’t, they really can’t want one, they’re too far back—­still they might come up to filter something near enough to want one—­no I won’t, it’s sheer waste—­still, I suppose one ought to be prepared—­oh, yes, give them one—­give them the word ‘strafe’; nobody’s got that.  Bong!  That’s all for to-day.”

And now you know what part I play in the Great War, Dickie.

Yours, JACK.

P.S.—­Just off for my morning’s exercise—­sharpening the Corps
Commander’s pencils.

* * * * *

A “PUNCH” COT.

Some time ago Mr. Punch made an appeal on behalf of the East London Hospital for Children at Shadwell.  He has now received a letter from the Chairman, which says:  “By a unanimous resolution the Board of Management have desired me to send you an expression of their most grateful thanks for your help, which, it is no exaggeration to say, has saved the Hospital from disaster.”  He adds that the Board “would like to give a more practical proof of their gratitude,” and proposes, as “an abiding memorial,” to set aside a Cot in the Hospital, to be called “The Punch Cot.”

It gives Mr. Punch a very sincere pleasure to convey to those who so generously responded to his appeal this expression of the Board’s gratitude, and he begs them also to accept his own.

The sum so far contributed by Mr. Punch and his friends amounts to L3,505.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  INTERLUDE.

ST. PATRICK, “THAT’S NOT THE WAY I DEALT WITH POISONOUS REPTILES. 
WHAT’S THE GOOD OF TRYING TO CHARM IT?”

MR. LLOYD GEORGE, “I’M NOT TRYING TO CHARM IT.  I’M JUST FILLING IN THE
TIME.”]

* * * * *

THE RECORDER.

[At the concluding session of the Museums Association Conference in Sheffield, Councillor Nuttall, of Southport said it was desirable that every town should make a voice record of every soldier who returned home from the wars, describing his experience in fighting.  It would be a valuable record for future generations of the family to know what their ancestor did in the Great War.]

In an Expeditionary Force whose vocabulary included several lurid words there was a certain Battalion renowned for the vigour of its language.  And in that Battalion Private Thompson held a reputation which was the envy of all.  Not only had he a more varied stock of expletives than anyone else, but he seemed to possess a unique gift for welding them into new and wonderful combinations to meet each fresh