class="i2">Forgetful of our murdered, child and woman;

Forgetful of our drowned who sleep

Without a grave beneath the wandering deep.

THE CADET'S FRIEND.

MISUNDERSTOOD.—You were in the wrong. The custom of throwing chicken-bones over the right shoulder is practised only in the mess of the 13th Bavarian Landsturm Regiment. Still, considering that you had only joined that day, we think your colonel acted hastily.

AS YOU WERE (and several other Correspondents).—The executive order for the new combined movement of "About turn and left incline" is given when the joint of the left big toe is opposite the right instep (in Rifle regiments substitute right for left and left for right).

SUBALTERN.—Your company commander is without authority for reproving you for shaving off your moustache. All the same, judging by the photograph you enclose, we think you would be wise to keep as much of your face covered as possible.

FIELD-MARSHAL'S BATON.—No, you are mistaken in supposing that a private soldier under close arrest may spend two hours daily in the regimental canteen. The only stimulant allowed him is one glass (2 oz., Mark IV.) of port daily with the orderly officer when the latter inspects the guardroom.

SUFFERER.—(1) No, White Star gas is never employed by army dentists. (2) No, you need not take your respirator with you. You hire the anæsthetist's at a small charge.

PINK RATS.—You assume that if you were appointed a mopper-up you would ex-officio be put in charge of the rum-ration. This is not the case. The function of moppers-up is to collect souvenirs for the new Great War Museum, to be housed in one of the four remaining London hotels.

OBSERVER.—German minnenwerfer are not dangerous if their flight is carefully watched, as they swerve to the left, and their landing-place can thus be fairly accurately judged. Two varieties, however—the windupwerfer and the hoppitwerfer—swerve to the right. The googliwerfer swerves both ways.

SOCIABLE.—The correct method of dealing with snipers in a house is to ring the front-door bell with the thumb and forefinger of the right hand, at the same time smartly inserting a charge of cordite into the letter-box with the left. Indents for postmen's uniforms for this purpose should be rendered to D.A.D.O.S. in triplicate.

STATISTICIAN.—The world's record is held by the adjutant of the pioneer battalion of the 371st Silesian Foot Regiment. There is unimpeachable evidence to prove that he was heard drinking gravy soup from a distance of 477 metres. The night was calm.

IF THE PAPER SHORTAGE INCREASES.

(Some Future Press Items.)

FICTION FAMINE IN THE PROVINCES.

From many districts come reports of great difficulty in obtaining novels. Yesterday in a well-known Midland town the unusual sight was observed of long queues outside the chief booksellers'. Several libraries displayed notices bearing the words, "No GARVICE to-day"; and quite early in the afternoon best quality BENSONS were practically unobtainable, even by regular customers.

FIRST CONDITIONAL SALE PROSECUTION.

Much interest has been roused in East Anglia over the fine of one hundred pounds inflicted by the Bench upon a local bookseller, found guilty of the Conditional Sale of Fiction. The chief witness, a retired stockbroker, proved that defendant refused to supply his order for a shilling's worth of O. HENRY unless he also purchased a remainder copy of Wanderings Round Widnes (published at twelve-and-six net). The Chairman, remarking that the case was a specially flagrant one, expressed a hope that the result would protect the public from such imposition in future.

VALUABLE DISCOVERY.

In view of the serious shortage in reliable fiction, nothing less than a sensation is likely to result from the reported discovery of an entirely satisfactory BARCLAY substitute in tabloid form. Should the tidings prove well authenticated, the patrons of circulating libraries will have good reason for satisfaction. The new preparation is said to be even sweeter than the original article, and equally sustaining.

FICTION CARDS COMING.

On inquiry at the Albert Hall (recently taken over as offices by the Literature Control Committee), our representative was emphatically assured that, should the system of voluntary romance-rationing prove unsatisfactory, some form of compulsion will become inevitable. It was pointed out that the indicated maximum of one novel or magazine per head weekly is amply sufficient for all reasonable requirements. The attention of the public is further called to the need of making the fullest and most economical use of the allowance, and not wasting the advertisement pages, which contain much readable and stimulating matter, the patent medicine paragraphs especially being rich in the finest imaginative fiction.

THE NEED OF MEN.

MR. PUNCH (to the Comber-out). "MORE POWER TO YOUR ELBOW, SIR. BUT WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO FILL UP THAT SILLY GAP?"

SIR AUCKLAND GEDDES. "HUSH! HUSH! WE'RE WAITING FOR THE MILLENNIUM."

"CHOCKCHAW;"

OR, BIG-WIGS AT PLAY.

Somebody in the Old Country discovered, with the aid of a hint or two, that the tooth (exact molar not specified) of the General Staff Officer 3 was sweet. As a natural result a certain famous firm of confectioners was indented upon heavily. Day in, day out, perspiring orderlies arrived festooned with parcels containing all kinds of wonderful things crammed with all sorts of wonderful surprises. Life in the General Staff Office resolved itself into four meals a day between sweetmeats. The whole routine underwent a complete change. Everyone who visited the place made, as a matter of course, a bee line for the General Staff Canteen cupboard, and while searching for the particular dainty he fancied broached the subject of his visit in general terms. He then turned to the officer he was addressing and politely offered him the kind of delicacy he thought would blend best with the matter in hand.

And then Chockchaw arrived. It began by letting the G.S.O.3 down badly the first day. All unsuspicious of its properties he rang up a Division, popped a piece into his mouth and waited. In due time the call came through, but no word could he utter. "Chockchaw lockjaw" had set in. Only a horrible sound like the squelching of ten gum-boots in the mud reached the indignant Staff at the other end. After a minute's monologue they rang off in disgust.

Yet in spite of all difficulties the vogue of Chockchaw swept through the Corps. It is such a ripe, rich, full-flavoured irresistible concoction. Disadvantages there are, of course, but, on the other hand, if you want to be quiet, it is easy to lure the unsuspecting intruder on to Chockchaw and leave it at that.