The victim regards the name of the instrument as most inept.

* * * * *

    “Lord Salvesen, the presiding judge, arrived in Aberdeen on Monday
    night, and gave a winner in the Palace Hotel.”—­Sunday Paper.

We hope to meet him in London before the Derby.

* * * * *

POLLY.

(With acknowledgments to Mr. KIPLING.)

I went into a private ’ouse to get a place as cook;
The lady ups an’ greets me with a most angelic look: 
“I’ve just been makin’ tea,” she sez, “I ’opes as you will try
These little scones wot I ’ave baked;” and to myself sez I: 
“It was Polly this, an’ Polly that, an’ ’Polly, scrub the
floor,’
But it’s ‘If you please, Miss Perkins,’ since we won the
bloomin’ War;
We won the bloomin’ War, my girls, we won the bloomin’ War,
It’s ‘If you please, Miss Perkins,’ since we won the
bloomin’ War.”

The lady she was out to please; we talked about the weather,
An’ when the tea was done we smoked a cigarette together,
An’ then we talked o’ jazzin’ an’ the BILLIE CARLETON case,
An’ so we come in course o’ time to talkin’ o’ the place.

“You won’t mind cookin’ lunch?” sez she.  Sez I, “Without a doubt,
On Toosdays an’ on Fridays, which they ain’t my ’alf-days out;
An’ dinner, too, I’ll manage”—­’ere the lady give a grin—­
“On Mondays an’ on Thursdays, which they ’ll be my evenings in.”

  “An’ wot about the breakfast?” “Don’t you worry, mum,” sez I,
  “I’m willin’ to oblige you every single blessed dye,
  Bar Sundays, when my young man comes; ‘e’s such a bloomin’ toff,
  ’E takes me up the river, so I takes the ’ole day off.”

  “That’s excellent,” the lady sez, “I’ll easy do the rest,
  So if you come, Miss Perkins, you will be our honoured guest,
  For Mr. Vere de Vere an’ I do all we can an’ more
  To please the splendid women wot ‘ave bin an’ won the War.”

Well, seein’ as the lady seemed to ’ave the proper view,
I took the situation an’ I ’opes as it will do. 
Of course there may be drawbacks, but you can’t get all you wish,
For aprons ain’t quite overalls an’ cookin’ ain’t munish. 
It was Polly this, an’ Polly that, an’ “Ugh! the mutton’s red;”
But it’s “Won’t you come, Miss Perkins?” now we’re paid to
stay in bed;
An’ it’s Polly this, an’ Polly that, an’ anythink you please;
An’ Polly ain’t a bloomin’ fool—­you bet that Polly sees!

* * * * *

“LES BEAUX ESPRITS SE RENCONTRENT.”

“Persons expressing unpopular views (by which I mean views opposed to such patriots as Horatio Bottomley, Colonel Lowther, and our own hon. and gallant member of Parliament, et hog genus omne).”—­Letter in “The Daily News.”

    “There have been more pig posts than there have been big men able
    to fill them.—­Mr. Bonar Law.”—­Bristol Times and Mirror.