“I’ve a hair-lotion here, Sir—­”

“No, thank you.”

I meant it.

He helped me on with my coat, brushed off a deal of imaginary dust, said something about skin softeners and bath requisites, but I’d had enough for one morning, and I was yearning to get those cigarettes and have a smoke.

I tendered my pound note.

He took it, and with his best smile said—­

“Another sixpence, Sir, please.”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “MOTHER, I HAVE BEEN GOOD TO-DAY—­SO PATIENT WITH NURSE.”]

* * * * *

BLIMP!

  There are many things Dora kept dark
    That she’s now letting into the light,
  And to-day an astounding aerial barque
    Has suddenly sailed into sight;
  But its past makes no sympathies burn,
    And its future leaves interest limp,
  Compared with the rapture I feel when I learn
      That its name is the Blimp.

  Who gave it its title, and why? 
    Was it old EDWARD LEAR from the grave? 
  Since Jumblies in Blimps would be certain to fly
    When for air they abandon the wave. 
  Was it dear LEWIS CARROLL, perhaps
    Sent his phantom to christen the barque,
  Since a Blimp is the obvious vessel for chaps
      When hunting a snark?

  And to-day, in the first-fruits of joy,
    I scarcely believe it is true
  That Blimp is a word we shall one day employ
    As lightly as now Bakerloo;
  And my reason refuses to jump
    To the fact that a man, not an imp,
  Can flash through the other and land with a bump
      From a trip in a Blimp.

* * * * *

“It needs no very profound knowledge of the politics of South-Western Europe to surmise that neither Rumania nor Greece would lend military assistance of this kind without being promised something in return.—­Manchester Guardian.

But a rather more profound knowledge of the geography might be useful.

* * * * *

THE OLD INVINCIBLE.

It is late in the day to draw attention to Mr. Punch as a prophet.  Everyone knows that his eyes have always discerned the farthest horizon.  None the less it is pleasant now and again to succumb to the temptation of saying “I told you so,” and especially when it is the finger of a friendly reader that points the way to the Sage’s triumph.  Were we in the habit of quoting from past numbers, as many of our contemporaries do, we should print the following paragraph from the issue of September 2nd, 1871:—­

“A REAL DANGER.

    “’According to Le Havre, about forty Prussian officers in
    mufti leave Dieppe every morning for England, their object
    being to visit the military establishments of Great Britain.’