Macduff,

And damned be he that first cries ‘Hold, enough’!”

O.S.

KING’S REGULATIONS, PARA. 1696.

I have been in the Army for over five years; I have wallowed in Flanders mud; I have killed thousands of Huns with my own hand; I have seen my friends resume the habiliment of gentlemen and retire to a life of luxury and ease; and yet I am still in the Army.

I am informed that I am indispensable and that, although I shall be allowed to go in due course, the fate of the nation depends on my sticking to my job for a short time more. It would be against the best interests of discipline for me to tell you what my job is.

Last week I yearned for a civilian life and decided that not only would I leave the Army but immediately and in good style.

I laid my plans accordingly and proceeded to Mr. Nathan’s. There for the expenditure of a few shillings I purchased the necessary material for my guile.

I retired to my office, that is the desk that I sit at in a room with two other officers, and I armed myself with a file which would act as a passport to the Assistant of a Great Man, who in turn is Assistant to a Very Great Man. They all reside at the War Office. I went there and was conducted to the Assistant of the Great Man. Everything was proceeding according to plan.

I found him, after the manner of Assistants, working hard. He did not look up, so I laid my file before him. It was entitled “Demobilization, letters concerning,” and this was followed by a long number divided up by several strokes. Within the file were some letters that had nothing to do with my plan and still less to do with demobilization, but I hoped that the Assistant of the Great Man might not delve too deeply into their mysteries.

My hope was justified. “A personal application?” he asked as he glanced at the reference number.

“Undoubtedly, Sir,” I replied, and something in the soldierly timbre of my voice arrested his attention.

Carefully replacing his teacup in its saucer he raised his eyes towards me. As he did so he started as though he had received a shock; a look of perturbation came over his features; his cheeks assumed an ashy tint and for a moment my fate trembled in the balance. But gradually I could see his years of training were reasserting themselves; the moral support of the O.B.E. on his breast was restoring his courage; he muttered to himself, and I caught the words “Superior Authority.”

Still muttering he rose and retired into the next room. Everything was proceeding according to plan.

In less than a minute he reappeared and beckoned me to follow him. I then knew that I should soon be in the presence of the Great Man himself.

I stood in front of an oak desk and noticed the keen but suppressed energy of the wall-paper, the tense atmosphere of war vibrating through the room, the solid strength of England incarnate behind the oak desk.

The Great Man spoke. His opening words showed that his interest was centred rather in me personally than in the file that lay before him. He spoke again, rose from his seat and disappeared. And as he went I caught the words, “Superior Authority.” In less than a minute he returned and beckoned me to follow him. I then knew that I should soon be in the presence of the Very Great Man himself. Everything was proceeding according to plan.

I stood in front of a mahogany desk and noticed the keener but more suppressed energy of the wall-paper, the tenser atmosphere of war vibrating through the room, the solid strength of the Empire incarnate behind the mahogany desk.

The Very Great Man spoke. His opening remarks showed that his interest was centred in me personally. He spoke again, and these are his exact words: “Mr. Jones,” he said, “I perceive that you are a student of King’s Regulations, and that you conform your actions to those estimable rules. You will be demobilised forthwith, and in view of your gallant service I have pleasure in awarding you a bonus of two hundred pounds in addition to your gratuity; but please understand that this exceptional remuneration is given on the condition that you are out of uniform within two hours.”

With my feet turned out at an angle of about forty-five degrees, my knees straight, my body erect and carried evenly over the thighs, I saluted, about turned and marched to the door. Everything had proceeded according to plan.

As I reached the door the Very Great Man spoke to the Great Man. “You will draft an Army Order at once,” he said, “in these words: King’s Regulations. Amendment. Para. 1696 will be amended, and the following words deleted:—‘Whiskers, if worn, will be of moderate length.’”

I am still in the Army. The truth of the matter is that what I have described did not really happen. My nerve failed me at the door of Mr. Nathan’s. But I believe that whiskers, detachable, red, can be obtained from Mr. Nathan for a few shillings.

Motto for the Anti-British Écho de Paris: “Ludum insolentem ludere Pertinax.”

EXPERT OPINION.

First Bricklayer (pausing so as not to exceed his Union’s speed limit). “BOUGHT ANY OF THESE ’OUSING BONDS, MATE?”

Second Bricklayer (ditto). “NOT ME; THEY’LL NEVER GET NO ’OUSES BUILT, NOT IF THINGS GO ON THE WAY THEY’RE GOING.”

Incoming Batsman (to Deep Field). “Er—am I going right for the wicket, please?”

DENMARK TO HAVE A MANDATE FOR IRELAND.

Sensation in Political Circles.

Dashing round to Downing Street on our motor-scooter we were just in time to catch Sir Philip Kerr by one of his coat-tails as he was disappearing into the door of No. 10 and to ask him whether the strange rumour as to the Prime Minister’s latest project was true.

“Perfectly,” replied the genial Secretary, gently disengaging us. “Mr. Lloyd George has been greatly struck by Mr. Jack Jones’s comparison of Lord Robert Cecil to Oliver Cromwell, and has been studying the whole Irish Question anew from an historical standpoint. He has decided that the mandate for Ireland ought never to have been undertaken for the Papal See by Henry II. Strongbow——”

“Let’s see, wasn’t he a Marathon runner?” we asked.

“You are thinking of Longboat,” he replied. “The Earl of Pembroke