Somebody told me that I could buy War Loan at 5-1/4 per cent. by borrowing money from my bank at five per cent.  This seemed to be the kind of investment I had been looking for.  I found that if I took a million on those terms I should draw a net income of L2,500 a year.  But I am a patriot.  It seemed to me that L2,500 a year was rather more than I was worth to the nation.  Was I better value than six M.P.’s?  Of course I might be worth six RAMSAY MACDONALDS.  However I resolved to avoid greed and ask for a simple hundred thousand.

So I went to my bank and said to a blue-eyed, Watteau type of beauty, “I want to see the manager, please.  Concerning an important investment in War Loan,” I added hastily, fearing lest the damsel should conclude that I wanted an ordinary overdraft.

I was ushered into the manager’s private room.

“About this War Loan,” I began.  “I understand that you advance money at five per cent. to make the purchase.”

“Yes, that is so,” said the manager, beaming.

I leapt for joy.  I had thought that there must be a catch somewhere.

“Put me down for a hundred thousand,” I said.

The manager nearly fell out of his swing-chair.  “My dear Sir,” he gasped, “have you any prospect of being able to save a hundred thousand during the next year or so?”

“Am I a milk-dealer or a munition-worker?” I replied.  “I should be both surprised and gratified if I saved that sum in a year.  Still I might do it, you know.  I should have to give up tobacco, of course.  Or suppose relations hitherto unknown to me died and left me handsome legacies.  You are always seeing these things in the papers.  ’Baker Inherits Half-Million From Lost Australian Uncle.’”

“A hundred,” amended the manager.  “Shall we say a hundred?  You need not pay a deposit.  I’ll give you a form.”

“Where’s your patriotism?” I demanded.  “A hundred, you say?  Well, I decline your overdraft.  Keep your ill-gotten much-grudged gain.  I’ll pay cash.”

I left the bank sadly.  I had thought of intimating to the blonde, brown and auburn beauties that I had just put a hundred thousand in War Loan.  I had imagined their eyes gleaming at the spectacle of one-tenth of a millionaire.

And now I can’t go to the bank again.  At least not till I have worked up my balance a little above its present total, namely L2 1s. 9d.

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[Illustration:  Instructor (to very nervous lady, who, with a view to war-work, is inquiring about tuition).  “OF COURSE YOU WOULD BEGIN ON A LOW-POWERED CAR, AND THEN WE SHOULD TAKE YOU IN A 40—­50, AND FINISH YOU OFF IN TRAFFIC.”]

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OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

(By Mr. Punch’s Staff of Learned Clerks.)