class="sc">Kaiser's fleet is increasing so rapidly that it has outgrown its present accommodation.

During the visit of Mr. Ford's Ark to Bergen the following notice was posted up at the Grand Hotel:—"All members of the Henry Ford Peace Expedition are requested to call for their laundry at the Grand Hotel, Room 408, Tuesday evening after supper. This notice supersedes the original plan to have the laundry delivered to each individual hotel." It may also explain why the members of the expedition have since washed their dirty linen in public.

Some of the pilgrims on the Oscar II. were much annoyed at the prohibition of card-playing on board. "What is the use," they asked, "of crying Pax when there are none?"

Some strait-laced Conservatives, who were a little shocked to see the announcement of "Mr. Balfour on the Film," were comforted on its being pointed out to them that Mr. Chaplin set him the example.

A ten-year-old girl's essay on "Patriotism":—"Patriotism is composed of patriots, and they are people who live in Ireland and want Mr. Redmond or other people to be King of Ireland. They are very brave, some of them, and are so called after St. Patrick, who is Ireland's private saint. The patriots who are brave make splendid soldiers. The patriots who are not brave go to America."

Lord Kitchener, who has a choice collection of old china, has lately added to it several fine specimens of Crown Derby.

So many Parliamentarians have recently requested the Treasury to stop sending them their £400 a year that a slight change in the designation of the others is suggested—P.M. (Paid Member) instead of M.P.

A soldier's letter: "Dear Sis,—You ask what I want—well, for Heaven's sake send us a barber! You never saw such heads in your life as we've got.

Lovingly, Bob.

P.S.—Failing a barber send us a box of hair-pins."

Is it true that while the Cliff Hotel at Gorleston was blazing furiously during the gale last week a zealous official went up to the unfortunate proprietor and threatened him with pains and penalties for allowing a naked light to be seen far out at sea?

We understand that since the entrance-fee was suspended and the subscription reduced, the Automobile Club has increased its membership so largely that the Committee are thinking of re-naming it the Omnibus.

A conversation in the trenches:—

Private Dougal McTavish (late of the Alberta Police): "Mon, in ma section 'tis aften fafty degrees below zero. But, bless ye, 'tis dry cold, ye'll never feel it."

L.C. Owen Tyrrell (late of Carpentaria Telegraphs): "Down-under it is usually 125 in the shade. But thin it is dry heat, you are niver sinsible of ut."

Corpl. James Brown (late Tram Conductor, Vancouver): "In B.C. we stake upon 312 to 314 rainy days in the year. But it is dry rain, it don't wet you."

In an article on the employment of women as dentists, the writer says: "A new charm has been added to the delights of dentistry." Optimist!

He also says that one lady "extracted 38 teeth from nine patients, and showed little signs of fatigue from it, either." But what about the nine?

We observe that Mr. Pearce, the Commonwealth Minister of Defence, fell while in his garden and broke two of his ribs, but are glad to learn that his condition is not serious. The conjunction of a rib, a garden, and a fall has in at least one previous case resulted in permanent injury.

A martyr to insomnia threatens, unless the Government stops the whistling for taxis, to let Mr. McKenna whistle for his.

Our men in the trenches are beginning to welcome the German gas-attacks. They say there is nothing like them for keeping down the rats.

Suggested motto for the controversy between the headmasters as to the publication of Public School Rolls of Honour—"Quot dominies tot santentiæ."

THE NEW LEAF.

Fancy portrait of Prussian poet preparing to write a Hymn of Love—in case it should be wanted.

Note.

The "Wingfield House" mentioned in the article "Cases," which appeared in Punch a fortnight ago, was a purely imaginary name and had nothing to do with the Wingfield House, near Trowbridge, where a hospital has for some time been established.

Juvenile War Lord.. "'Ere! Someone else 'ave a go—I'm sick o' war. It ain't in reason ter expect a bloke ter be the Kaiser three days running!"

THE VINDICATION OF JIMMY.

In one corner of the school play-ground stood a small boy in deep dejection, with his hands in his pockets, his lower lip trembling slightly, whilst he strove to kick a hole in the ground with his right toe. It was Jimmy—Jimmy in his hour of trial.

He wasn't going to blub, he wasn't going to do anything.

Suddenly he stopped kicking at the ground, as he remembered that his mother had told him he must be careful of his boots now that the War was on.

He took out of his pocket a match-box, the temporary home of a large beetle—a buzzer, Jimmy called it—which had hitherto refused to eat either grass or bran or Indian corn. His gaze then wandered to a hole in his stockings, which he had mended by applying ink to the exposed part of his skin.

From the opposite side of the playground came the tumultuous noise of the calm deliberations of Form II.

Jimmy knew perfectly well that they were discussing him, and that in time one of their number would be sent to inform him of the verdict and sentence.

He expected that he would have to fight them all, one by one, and he wondered how many blows he would be able to stand without returning them, for to hit back was out of the question under the unfortunate circumstances.

Jimmy wished they would get it over, for he was quite willing to undergo any form of punishment they might decide upon, if only they would let him know quickly. He hoped they wouldn't make the Biffer fight him, not that he was afraid of the Biffer, but because it would be so hard to keep himself from hitting back, and that he had decided not to do. You see the Biffer was a new boy, and, for another thing, he wore a leather strap round his wrist. On his very first day at school the Biffer had volunteered the information that he once gave a boy such a biff on the nose that he had sprained his wrist, and that ever since he had worn a wrist strap, lest it should happen again. It was Jimmy who had nick-named him the Biffer, and from that time the Biffer had sought Jimmy's blood.

But Jimmy was not easy to quarrel with.

He was the acknowledged champion of Form II., and you had to commit three offences before Jimmy would seriously consider you. At the first offence you got a note with the one word "Beware!" written upon it; at the second, another note with the word "Blood" written underneath a skull and crossbones; and at the third you received a note with the word "Deth," and