Well, I have selected my hotel—­on purely literary grounds.  Or rather I have selected two.  One is the place where they have the Famous Whirlpool Baths.  I shall go there at once.

The manager of the other is a great artist; alone among the collaborators he understands simplicity.  His contribution occupies a whole page; but there is practically nothing in it, nothing about cuisine or sanitation, or elegance or comfort.  Only, in the middle, he writes quite simply THE MOST PERFECT HOTEL IN THE WORLD.

A.P.H.

[Footnote 1:  “Bradshaw’s General Railway and Steam Navigation Guide for Great Britain and Ireland.”]

* * * * *

    A ZOOLOGICAL CURIOSITY.

    “The complaint made was that men came to the district and
    asked inflated prices for shares, far above the market value,
    and it was argued that the new exchange would tend to obviate
    this system of sharks feathering their nests.”—­Lancashire
    Paper.
       * * * * *

[Illustration:  BEHIND THE SCENES IN CINEMA-LAND.

“THAT’S FINE.  BUT, AS I HAVEN’T GOT ANY FILMS LEFT, I SUPPOSE THERE’S NO USE STAYING HERE.”]

* * * * *

AN INTER-SERVICE MATCH.

(With the British Army in France.)

Frederick entered the Mess with a decided sea-roll, hitched his slacks and berthed himself on the starboard settee.

“Cheerio, my hearties,” said he breezily.  “Everybody on the old lugger still luffing along all serene?”

“Why so oppressively nautical?” inquired Percival.  “You haven’t been on the leave-boat lately.”

“’Tis true, old messmate.  I’m under the influence of my new batman, one ’Enery ’Enson.  After a lifetime in the Marines he’s now spending his declining days in the Army, and he’s terribly infectious.  I found myself saying, ‘Ay, ay, Sir,’ when the C.O. spoke to me.”

“I think I’ve noticed your ’Enery,” said Percival.  “Isn’t he about ten feet high by six broad, tattooed all over like a circulating art gallery, and addicted to chewing quids and swabbing out your hut in his bare feet?”

“My cabin, you mean.  And says he’s going ashore when he takes a trip down the village.  That’s ’Enery.”

“Incidentally he’s a confirmed bath-lifter,” interjected Binnie.  “Yesterday morning my batman prepared me a tub, and while he was fetching me along your hulking pirate boosted out my sponge and towels and installed your lily-white self in it.  You were so busy wallowing in my hot water that you never heard my protests on the door.  You really must curb his buccaneering instincts, old Tirps.”

“I accept no responsibility for his methods,” said Frederick haughtily; “I merely profit by them.  In any case I didn’t take your hot water; I simply used it.  You should live near the bath-house and get up promptly when you are called, as I do.”