THE WESTERN LIGHTHOUSES.

Flashed Lizard to Bishop,

"They're rounding the fish up

Close under my cliffs where the cormorants nest;

The lugger lamps glitter

In hundreds and litter

The sea-floor like spangles. What news from the West?"

Flashed he of the mitre,

"The night's growing brighter,

There's mist over Annet, but all's clear at sea;

Lit up like a city,

Her band playing pretty,

A big liner's passing. Ay, all's well with me."

Flashed Wolf to Round Island,

"Oh, you upon dry land,

With wild rabbits cropping the pinks at your base,

You lubber, you oughter

Stand watch in salt water

With tides tearing at you and spray in your face."

The gun of the Longships

Boomed out like a gong, "Ships

Are bleating around me like sheep gone astray;

There's fog in my channel

As thick as grey flannel—

Boom-rumble!—I'm busy; excuse me, I pray."

They winked at each other

As brother to brother,

Those red lights and white lights, the summer night through,

And steered the stray tramps out

Till dawn snuffed their lamps out

And stained the sea-meadows all purple and blue.

Patlander.


"Advertiser has Stole Skin, Russian Sables, for Sale."—Daily Paper.

This is what comes of opening up trade relations with the Bolshevists.


A provincial firm announces that it supplies "distinctive clothing for men." And a very necessary thing, too, in these days of sex equality.


"Ex-Soldier requires Loan of £100. What interest? No lenders."—Daily Paper.

We should have thought "No interest! What lenders?" would have been more to the point.



Squire.

Almshouse inmate, late squire.

Second under tweeny at the hall.
(See Squire).

Ploughman homeward plodding his weary way.

Village shop proprietor.

Oldest inhabitant.

Parson.

Bird Scarer (D.S.O., M.C.).

[Among the Americans who will visit us this summer there may be some not familiar with our countryside types. Mr. Punch hopes the above will be useful.]


The Ex-Plunger. "Chuck 'orses, my son—they'll be the ruin of yer. I lorst a fortune on the Durby."