Alas, poor KARL! Ridiculus mus.

* * * * *

    “Wanted one hour daily from ten to eleven morning at
    convenience an English Talking Family for practice of talking. 
    Remuneration twenty rupees per mensem.”—­Times of India.

We know one or two “talking families” that we should be glad to export.

* * * * *

    “In finding the defendant L3, Mr. Price told the defendant
    that he would get into serious trouble if he persisted in his
    conduct.”—­Evening Paper.

And he may not meet such a generous magistrate next time.

* * * * *

    “Englishman, well educated, desires afternoon engagement;
    experienced in the care of children; good needlewoman; or
    would assist light housework.”—­Canadian Paper.

We hope we shall hear no further complaints from Canada that Englishmen are not adaptable.

* * * * * COMMUNICATIONS.

I was sitting in the Club, comfortably concealed by sheets of a well-known journal, when two voices, somewhere over the parados of the deep arm-chair, broke in upon my semi-consciousness.

“...  Then poor old Tubby, who hasn’t recovered from his 1918 dose of shell-shock, got a go of claustrophobia and felt he simply had to get out of the train.”

The speaker paused and I heard the clink of glass.

“Well?” said the other voice.

“So, before we could flatten him out, he skipped up and pulled the communicator thing and stopped the train; consequently we ran into Town five minutes behind time.  There was the deuce of a buzz about it.”

“What’s five minutes in this blissful land of lotus-eaters?  Why, I’ve known the Calais-Wipers express lose itself for half-a-day without a murmur from anyone, unless the Brigadier had run out of bottled Bass.”

“But, my dear fellow,” the first voice expostulated, “this was the great West of England non-stop Swallowtail; runs into Town three minutes ahead of time every trip.  Habitues of the line often turn an honest penny by laying odds on its punctuality with people who are strangers to the reputation of this flier.”

“A pretty safe thing to bet on, eh?” said the other voice.  Again there was the faint clink of glass and then the voices drifted into other topics, to which, having re-enveloped myself in my paper, I became oblivious.

A few days later I was called away from London, with Mr. Westaby Jones, to consult in a matter of business.  Mr. Westaby Jones is a member of the Stock Exchange and, amongst other trivial failings, he possesses one which is not altogether unknown in his profession.  He cannot resist a small wager.  On several occasions he has gambled with me and shown himself to be a gentleman of considerable acumen.

Our business was finished and we were on the way back to Town by the great West of England non-stop Swallowtail.  We had lunched well and discussed everything there was to discuss.  It was a moment for rest.  I unfolded my paper and proceeded to envelop myself in the usual way.