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I am no pacificist, but I am bound to admit that the moment seems distinctly ripe for a cessation in one minor War product, namely the trench-book.  Perhaps some form of armistice might be arranged, to last, say, six months; at the end of which time (should the War last so long) the changed conditions of campaigning on German soil might at least give our impressionists a chance of originality.  I have been inspired to these comments by a perusal of Mud and Khaki (SIMPKIN), in which Mr. VERNON BARTLETT has reprinted from The Daily Mail and elsewhere a number of vigorous and realistic studies of life on the Western Front.  Perhaps, as a whole, the collection is a little more grim than most; but there are not wanting touches of light comedy, in, for example, the comments of an admirable philosopher named "Pongo” Simpson.  For the rest the book is precisely what you can gather from its title.  In his preface the author tells us that his object in writing it has partly been to correct a lack of appreciation among stay-at-homes of the hardships and heroism of their defenders.  But does there really breathe a man with soul so dead as to belittle these to-day?  I should be ashamed to think so.  Still, do not suppose that I regret that Mr. BARTLETT should have been goaded by whatever motive into print.  Far from it, for he is clearly a writer of gifts.  But I suggest that he should next time exhibit them to us in some (dare I say?) less trenchant guise.

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[Illustration:  Returned Soldier.  “WELL, JOHN, I DON’T SEE MUCH CHANGE IN THE OLD PLACE SINCE I WENT AWAY.”

Old Villager.  “OH, WE AIN’T SUCH STICK-IN-THE-MUDS AS YOU MAKE OUT, MY LAD.  W’Y AIN’T YOU NOTICED THAT OLD MRS. HUBBLE ’AS GOT A NEW PAIR O’ SPECS?”]

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    “CHRISTENING LUCK.

    While going down the Canongate one day last year, I was presented
    with a parcel by a lady carrying a baby, which contained bread
    and cheese, cakes, and a threepenny piece.”—­Scots Paper.

Thrifty little beggar!