I hold a brief for no land
    That tramples on its kin;
  My heart once bled for Poland
    And groaned for Russia’s sin;
  But, if to clear the tangle
    WINSTON is given his head,
  I feel that General WRANGEL
    Were better downed and dead.

  I hold no brief—­I swear it—­
    For militant Sinn Fein;
  I really cannot bear it
    When constables are slain;
  But if you mention CARSON
    I feel that for the spread
  Of murder and of arson
    A good deal can be said.

  I hold no brief for SMILLIE
    Or for the miners’ claims;
  I disapprove most highly
    Of many of their aims;
  But when I see the Wizard
    Enthroned in ASQUITH’S stead,
  It cuts me to the gizzard
    And dyes my vision Red.

  I hold no brief for madmen
    On revolution bent,
  For bitter or for bad men
    On anarchy intent;
  But sooner far than “stop” them
    With Coalition lead,
  To foster and to prop them
    I’d leave no word unsaid.

* * * * *

=Our Decadent Poets.=

Extract from an Indian’s petition:—­

    “... to look after my old father, who leads sickly life, and is
    going from bad to verse every day.”

* * * * *

    “So far from Mr. Kameneff having had nothing to do with any
    realisation of jewels, he ... took plains to report it to his
    Government.”—­Daily Paper.

In fact, he took the necessary steppes.

* * * * *

“A privately owned aeroplane, flying from London to the Isle of Wight, descended in a field near Carnforth, seven miles north of Morecambe Bay.  The propeller was broken, but the occupants, a lady and a gentleman, escaped with a shaking.”—­Daily Paper.

The real shock came when they found out where they were.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  =THE PRESS PHOTOGRAPH.=

WHEN A FELLOW GETS HIS—­

PHOTO TAKEN FOR THE PAPERS—­

I THINK IT’S ROTTEN BAD FORM—­

ON THE PART OF ANOTHER FELLOW—­

TO SPOIL THE PICTURE BY INTRUDING A BALL—­

AT THE CRUCIAL MOMENT.]

* * * * *

THE HANDY MAN.

The men I most admire at the present time, though I take care not to tell them so to their faces, are the men who can do everything.  By this I don’t mean people of huge intellectual attainments, like Cabinet Ministers, or tremendous physical powers, like Tarzan of the Apes.  It must be very nice to be able to have a heart-to-heart talk with KRASSIN or to write articles for the Sunday picture-papers, and very nice also to swing rapidly through the tree-tops, say, in Eaton Square; but none of these gifts is much help when the door-handle comes off.  I hate that sort of thing to happen in a house.