times, Possum girded up his loins, so to speak, gripped the telephone firmly in the right hand this time, and jumped off again. His "Hullo" sent a thrill through even the Bosch listening apparatus in the next sector.

"Hullo! L-look here, Pike, we—want—to—know—what time it is."

"Eleven thir—"

"No, no, it—it"

"What?"

"It! You know what I mean. Damit, what can I call it? Oh—er, sports; what time is your high jump?" he added, nodding and winking knowingly. "Well, what time's the circus? When do you start for Berlin?"

"I say, Possum, are you all right, old chap?" said a voice full of concern.

A crop of full-bodied beads appeared on the Brigade Major's brow. His right hand was paralysed by the unceasing grip of the receiver. There was a strained look in his eyes as of a man watching for the ration-party.

"S-something," he said, calmly and surely mastering his fate—"s-something is happening to-night."

"You're a cheery sort of bloke, aren't you?"

"Good God, are you cracked or what? There's a—"

"Careful, careful!" called the General from his comfortable chair in the other room.

"O-oh!" sang the mosquito voice, "now I know what you mean. You want to know what time our—er—ha! ha! you know—the—er—don't you?"

"The—ha! ha! yes"—they leered frightfully at each other; it was a horrible spectacle. No one would think that Possum had so much latent evil in him.

"We sent you the time mid-day."

"Well, we haven't had it. C-can you give me any indication, w-without actually s-saying it, you know?"

"Well now," said the mosquito, "You know how many years' service I've got? Multiply by two and add the map square of this headquarters."

"Well, look here," it sang again, "you remember the number of the billet where I had dinner with you three weeks ago? Well, halve that and add two."

"Half nine and add two" (aside: "These midnight mathematics will be the death of me—ah! that's between six and seven?"). Aloud: "But that's daylight."

"No, it isn't. Which dinner are you thinking of?"

With the sweat pouring down his face, both hands now clasping the telephone—his right being completely numbed—he called upon the gods to witness the foolishness of mortals. Suddenly a hideous cackle of mosquito-laughter filtered through and, by some diabolical contrivance of the signals, the tiny voice swelled into a bellow close to his ear.

"If you really want to know, old Possum," it said, "the raid took place two hours ago!"

"I hope," said Possum, much relieved, but speaking with concentrated venom, "I h-hope you may be strafed with boiling— Are you there?" Being assured that he was he slapped his receiver twice, and, much gratified at the unprintable expression of the twice-stunned-one at the other end, went to tell the General—who, he found, had gone to bed and was fast asleep.

"The customary oats were administered to the new Judge."—Perthshire Constitutional.

There had been some fear, we understand, that owing to the food shortage he would have to be content with thistles.

Stout Lady (discussing the best thing to do in an air-raid). "WELL, I ALWAYS RUNS ABOUT MESELF. YOU SEE, AS MY 'USBAND SEZ, AN' VERY REASONABLE TOO, A MOVIN' TARGIT IS MORE DIFFICULT TO 'IT."

THE OLD FORMULA.

Private Brown lay upon his pillows thoughtfully sucking the new pencil given him by his mate in the next bed. Propped against the cradle that covered his shattered knee was a pad, to which a sheet of paper had been fixed, and he was about to