if his voice were trained," suggested the lark.

Meanwhile the frog croaked away lustily, but no one listened to him. "The jury must vote by ballot," he said as he finished the last croak.

"Of course we must," twittered the jury.

The frog won by eight votes to two.

"I voted for the nightingale," whispered the crow to the toad.

"So did I," whispered the toad.

A LOSS.

For many reasons the passing of the poster is to be welcomed. For one thing, it robbed the papers themselves of that element of surprise which is one of life's few spices; for another, it added to life's many complexities by forcing the reader into a hunt through the columns which often ended in disappointment: in other words the poster's promise was not seldom greater than the paper's performance. Then, again, it was often offensive, as when it called for the impeachment of an effete "old gang," many of whose members had joined the perfect new; or redundant, as when it demanded twenty ropes where one would have sufficed.

But, even although the streets may be said to have been sweetened by the absence of posters, days will come, it must be remembered, when we shall badly miss them. It goes painfully to one's heart to think that the embargo, if it is ever lifted, will not be lifted in time for most of the events which we all most desire, events that clamour to be recorded in the large black type that for so many years Londoners have associated with fatefulness. Such as ("reading from left to right"):—

It will be hard to lose these.

FRITZ'S APOLOGIA.

"It is proposed to collect from Nottinghamshire householders bones and fat for the extraction of glycerine."—Christian World.

Poor "lambs"!

"Lady Companion Wanted, immediately, by young married woman; servant kept, and there are no children: applicant must be well educated, well read, well-bred, and of impeachable character."—Provincial Paper.

So as to give her employer something to talk about?

"'Baghdad' written large on the wall of the terminus in English and Arabic reminded them that they had arrived. In the booking office, now deserted, there had been a rush for tickets to Constantinople. The last train had gone out at 2 a.m. A supper officer discovered the way-bill."—Daily Paper.

A poor substitute if he was looking for the bill-of-fare.

From an Egyptian picture-palace programme:—

The translator of the French original was probably justified in his rendering of "fou rire."

PROTESTS OF AN AMMUNITION MULE.

OH—GET A MOVE ON!

Mule. "WHAT ON EARTH'S HE STOPPING FOR?

NOW WHAT'S THE TROUBLE?

WELL, OF ALL THE—

HERE, HOLD ON—YOU WAIT FOR ME NOW. HANG THESE FLIES!".

ADMIRAL DUGOUT.