“No,” I said, “you are wrong, Geoffrey; his name, on inquiry, proved to be Quail.  But that was only half the problem solved.  Why, I thought, should Leopold have been so puzzled?  And then an idea struck me.  I went back to the man on the bench and, with renewed apologies, asked him if he would mind telling me how he spelt his name.  He put his hand into his pocket and produced a card.  On it was engraved, ‘J.M.  QUAYLE.’  Then I understood.  It was the spelling that puzzled Leopold.”

* * * * *

THE NEW APPEAL.

We observe with interest the latest development in the London Press—­the appearance of the new Labour journal, The Daily Nail.

In the past, attempts to found a daily newspaper for the propagation of Labour views have not always met with success.  Possibly the fault has been that they made their appeal too exclusively to the Labour public.  We understand that every care will be taken that our contemporary shall under no circumstances be a financial failure.

The Daily Nail is a bright little sheet, giving well-selected news, popular “magazine” and “home” features, and, on the back page, a number of pictures.  It has a strong financial section, a well-informed Society column, and a catholic and plentiful display of advertisements, including announcements of many of those costly luxuries which Labour to-day is able to afford.

While in its editorial comments it suggests emphatically that the Government of the day is not and never can be satisfactory, it refrains from embarrassing our statesmen with too many concrete proposals for alternative methods.

We learn that the new Labour daily is substantially backed by a nobleman of pronounced democratic ideals.  From his Lordship down to the humblest employee there exists among the staff a beautiful spirit of fellowship unmarked by social distinction.

“Good morning, comrade,” is the daily greeting of his Lordship to the lift-boy, who replies with the same greeting, untarnished by servility.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE NEW COALITION.

Mr. ASQUITH (to Viscount CHAPLIN and Lord ROBERT CECIL).  “THANKS, MY FRIENDS—­THANKS FOR YOUR LOYAL SUPPORT.  DO MY EYES DECEIVE ME, OR DO I SEE BIG BEN?”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Son of House (entertaining famous explorer and distinguished professor).  “IT WOULD ASTONISH YOU FELLOWS IF I TOLD YOU SOME OF THE THINGS I’VE SEEN AND HEARD—­THOUGH I’M, COMPARATIVELY SPEAKING, A YOUNG MAN—­TWENTY-TWO, TO BE EXACT.”]

* * * * *

THE INSOMNIAC.

Miss Brown announced her intention of retiring to roost.  Not that she was likely to sleep a blink, she said; but she thought all early-Victorian old ladies should act accordingly.

She asked Aunt Angela what she took for her insomnia.  Aunt Angela said she fed it exclusively on bromides.  Edward said he gave his veronal and SCHOPENHAUER, five grains of the former or a chapter of the latter.