'ad," the sailor continued, quite unmoved by this outburst; "fact she was a bit fancy all round."

"Ha! disguised, I presume?" exclaimed the old gentleman, his discretion for a moment overcome.

"Did she float for any length of time after being torpedoed?" The thin man put the question with a legal incisiveness.

"Went to pieces like a paymaster's digestion as soon as the second mouldy got 'er. Most unnatural."

He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand and ruminated on the peculiarity of it.

"I suppose you got dreadfully wet?" the elderly lady asked feelingly.

"Well, Mum," he said gravely, "I wasn't exactly dry. Yer see, after the show sharp squalls set in from the Sou'-west, an' me 'avin' made fast to my mate's bow awnin', I 'adn't no claim to the umbereller. So I did get a bit soused round the superstructure, but not, so to speak, flooded right down to my propeller casins."

"Dear! dear! How truly terrible."

She relapsed into silence convulsively, while the old gentleman wheezed with great ferocity and muttered something about a good answer to a d——d silly question.

"A submarine, of course?" The thin man pursued his examination relentlessly.

"So we presoomed from events which 'appened later."

"Artful them blinkin'—beg pardon, ladies—pirits is," vouchsafed a man of toil from the far end of the 'bus; "my brother wot's——"

"All this occurred at night, I assume?" the old gentleman interrupted snappily.

"Yes, Sir, it was an evenin' performance." He glanced out into the murky night. "Put me down at Sydney Terrace," he said to the conductor.

"Wy, ye're there nah," grumbled that caustic individual as he jerked sharply at the bell-cord.

"Well," exclaimed the thin man as the sailor rose to go, "I congratulate you very heartily on your good luck—very heartily indeed!"

For the first time the hero of the incident seemed to exhibit signs of impatience.

"Good luck!" he repeated sarcastically. "Call it good luck to 'ave your cap pinched out o' the 'arf-dollar seats an' then 'ave to take yer best girl 'ome in this crabbin' chappoo. I'm goin' to see the brass-'atted owner to-morrow, an' if 'e don't pay out I'll wreck the 'ole bloomin' theatre. Good luck, yer call it!" He swung off the foot-board and disappeared into the gloom, muttering incoherently.

             *             *             *             *             *

"He—he!" tittered the flapper. It was the only audible comment on the situation.

"A War Office statement this afternoon reports another successful operation by Australian and New Zealand mounted troops in Egypt.

At the enemy port of Barsalmana the enemy were compelled to abandon their camp, and were then combed by aeroplane."

Liverpool Echo.

An appropriate sequel to a brush with the Cavalry.

"If you stand the piano out into the room, you will want a cur-choke soup, mayonaise of lamb, macaroni with tomatoes."

Ladies' Paper.

In the interests of the cur it would be more merciful to keep the piano in the corner.

QUESTION AND ANSWER.

I.

"A gentleman seeking information for forthcoming book about the recent developments and inventions in Glass and Pottery manufacture, also Bottle-making, would be pleased to hear from anyone capable of furnishing such information."—The Times.

II.

Dear Sir,—It is very fortunate that I caught sight of your advertisement, for I am just the man you need. You want to know all about bottles and things. I can tell you.

Let