ECONOMY IN THE PRESS.
I.—The Editorial Page.
Here upon our middle page,
Where the correspondents rage,
Grim and dour and dry,
Here with counsel bold and sage
War on lollipops we wage,
Smiting hip and thigh.
"Pare potatoes very thin;
All the virtue's in the skin;
Save the peel for soups;
Drop cigars; abandon gin;
Leave the bristles on your chin;
Tie your hair in loops.
"Golf and ties and collars shun;
Lunch upon a penny bun;
Butter not your bread;
Save your pennies—every one
Helps to crush the brutal Hun."
Thus and thus we've said.
II.—The Advertisement Pages.
Now the advertiser comes;
Hush the sound of warning drums;
Hear his siren song:
"Leave your economic sums;
Leave the task of saving crumbs;
Join the shopping throng.
"Come to Blank's—the thing to do!
Here are chiffons, ninons too,
Quilts for Fido's cot;
Silken robe and satin shoe,
Figured fabrics, gold and blue,
Bangles, pearls—what not?
"Bon-bons, perfumes, trifles gay—
Still you'll find a fresh display
Where the last one ends;
New sensations every day!
Motor round without delay!
Come, and bring your friends!"
In Its Proper Element.
"No appointments have been made in the place of Lord Derby and Lord Montagu [who have resigned their seats on the Joint Air Committee], and the Committee is, for the present, en l'air."—The Times.
"Amongst the sights which never fail to draw the attention of curious Londoners is that of girls perched high up on enormous vans manipulating the reins and guiding fresh nurses through the maze of city traffic."
"Star" (Ch. Ch. N. Z.)
There must be some mistake here. The nurses we see in London are always perfectly sober.
Mr. Blatchford on the match-tax:—
"In this insidious manipulation of the thin end of the Tory wedge do we not perceive the cloven hoof of the serpent casting its shadow before?"—Weekly Dispatch.
No; all we see is Mr. Blatchford laboriously trying to emulate Sir Boyle Roche.
Tommy. "I went to a place a bit further down the road for supper last night. I don't go there again."
Lady Muriel Beltravers-Montmorency. "Oh, what's the matter with it?"
Tommy. "What's the matter with it? Why, they have paid waitresses there."