Saturday.—­First-class, regular all-round battle.  A large force arrived to fight the Miners, Gatlings and Krupps blaze away without intermission.  Losses on both sides pretty considerable.

Sunday.—­Conversion of the Great Hagglenaggle Fields into a cemetery.  Great rise in shares on allotment.  Ten acres of booking in advance!

* * * * *

LAYS OF MODERN HOME.

NO.  III.—­OFF FOR MY HOLIDAY.

  Yes!  I’m off for my holiday.  Forty odd pieces
    Of luggage, three cabs, and a van, and a ’bus too. 
  Without counting loose wraps, and umbrellas in creases,
    And sweets that my darlings are sucking with gusto.

  Yes!  I’m off for my holiday—­wife in hysterics,
    Since nowhere on earth can her poodle be found;
  And the nurses and children—­ANNES, LILIANS, ERICS—­
    All screaming, and fussing, and fuming around!

  Yes!  I’m off for my holiday—­Tyneside, or Deeside,
    Or Lakes, or that Switzerland English, Hind Head,
  Or the thousand monotonies known as “The Seaside”—­
    Ask not whither my fugitive footsteps are led.

  For whatever the place, it is ever the same thing;
    Poor Paterfamilias always must suffer. 
  A dyspeptic, a costly, a lame and a tame thing
    Is Holiday-time for a family buffer.

  Yes!  I’m off for my holiday—­where I won’t mention;
    They are pulling the blinds of my drawing-room down: 
  But next year—­if I live—­it’s my solemn intention
    To stay, upon business, en garcon, in Town.

* * * * *

FAIR PROSPECTS OF FINE WEATHER.—­No rain on St. Swithin’s, and last week the County of Inverness discarded its MACKINTOSH.

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