The ancient Gaul props himself up against the pie-bald cow and shakes his ancient head. “C’est la guerre,” he croaks.

The deserted Riding-Master damns his eyes and blesses his soul for a few moments; then sighs resignedly, takes a cigarette from his cap lining, lights it and waddles off towards the village and his favourite estaminet.

PATLANDER.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Motor Cyclist.  “DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT AN AEROPLANE COMING DOWN SOMEWHERE NEAR HERE?”

Boy. “NO, SIR.  I’VE ONLY BEEN SHOOTIN’ AT SPARRERS.”]

* * * * *

“Some of these fish have already found their way to Leeds, and, it must be added, have not met with a very cordial reception.  Although the fish may be bought at what might be described as an attractive price, they do not appear likely to move for some time.”—­Yorkshire Paper.

But if the hot weather continues—­

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Convalescent Lieutenant.  “CHEERIO, MARTHA!  I’VE GOT ANOTHER PIP.”

Martha.  “LAWKS, SIR!  I ’OPE IT WON’T MEAN MORE VISITS TO THE ’OSPITAL.”]

* * * * *

SENSES AND SENSIBILITY.

I.

From Fred Golightly, comedian, to Sinclair Voyle, dramatic critic.

DEAR VOYLE,—­I am not one ordinarily to take any notice of remarks that are overheard and reported to me; but there are exceptions to every rule and I am making one now.  I was told this evening by a mutual friend and fellow-member that at the Buskin Club, after lunch to-day, in the presence of a number of men, you said that the trouble with me was that I had no sense of humour.

Considering my standing as a comedian, hitherto earning high salaries and occupying the place I do solely by virtue of my comic gifts (as the Press and Public unanimously agree), this disparagement from a man wielding as much power as you do is very damaging.  Managers hearing of it as your honest opinion might fight shy of me.

I therefore ask you to withdraw the criticism with as much publicity as it had when you defamed me by making it.

Why you should have made it at all I can’t imagine, for I have often seen you laughing in your stall, and we have been friends for many years.

Believe me, yours sincerely but sorrowfully, FRED GOLIGHTLY.

II.

From Sinclair Voyle, dramatic critic, to Fred Golightly, comedian.

DEAR GOLIGHTLY,—­You have been misinformed.  I didn’t say you had no sense of humour; I said you had no sense of honour.

Yours faithfully, SINCLAIR VOYLE.

III.

From Fred Golightly, comedian, to Sinclair Voyle, dramatic critic.