Then I remembered that I was at the British Officers’ Club in Cologne.

“How interested they will be at home,” I thought, “when they know where I am.  And of course I must send them souvenirs of my Watch on the Rhine;” and thoughtfully I produced from my pocket some local tram-tickets, kept for the younger members of the family, and patted a box of two-penny cigars encouragingly.  These I was going to send to my brother.

Then I rose and, paying the bill, went out to purchase a suitable memento for a younger sister.  Slowly I wandered along the crowded Hohestrasse in the direction of the Opera House, peering into the shop-windows for something redolent of the land I was in.  Presently a bright-looking sweetshop attracted me.  The window contained a beautiful selection of chocolate-boxes, with pictures of the Cathedral or the Rhine Maidens on the lids.  In I went and selected a handsome sample, bound with red plush and bordered with sea-shells.  But it was empty.  “Nix sweets,” said the girl behind the counter, and offered me the alternative of a bun.  Nothing doing, and I passed on.

Further along the street I stopped before a chemist’s shop to regard a huge pyramid of bottles of eau-de-Cologne displayed in the window.

“The very thing,” I said to myself.  “What more appropriate souvenir than a bottle of the local produce?”

That was ten days ago, and this morning I received the following letter:—.

“Thank you so much for the scent; it was sweet of you, and arrived safely, only I don’t think it quite so nice as the real eau-de-Cologne which I buy at Brown’s shop [Brown is the village grocer] for three-and-nine a bottle.  And he says they must have taken you in properly with a German imitation called eau-de-Koeln, and expects you had to pay a pretty penny for it, though I hope you didn’t, poor boy.”

Reader, I ask you.

* * * * *

    “INFLUENZA EPIDEMIC—­PUBLIC MEETING.

    “In order to comply with the regulations of the Board of
    Health, each person attending the meeting must occupy 25
    sq. feet space.”—­Australian Paper.

“Let me have men about me that are fat.”—­Julius Caesar.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE CHEERFUL PACHYDERM.

ELEPHANT (faintly intrigued).  “WHO’S THAT TICKLING ME?”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  PEACE PREPARATIONS.

Music-hall Artist (to partner).  “I RECKON WE OUGHT TO INTRODUCE SOME NEW FEATURE INTO THE TURN, WITH PEACE COMIN’.”

Partner.  “AH, I’VE BEEN THINKING OF IT TOO.  WHAT ABAHT PINK FACINGS FOR OUR EVENING DRESS?”]

* * * * *

THE BLUE HAT.

Nancy came softly into my study and stood at the side of the desk, where I was busy with some work on account of which I had stayed away from the office that morning.