HELPING LORD DEVONPORT.
"Francesca," I said, "what are you doing to help Lord DEVONPORT?"
"Lots of things," she said. "For one thing, we're living under his ration-scheme, and we're doing it pretty well, thank you."
"Yes, I know," I said; "I've heard you mention it once or twice. It seems to consist very largely of rissoles and that kind of food."
"Well," she said, "we must use up everything; and, besides, you'd soon get tired of beefsteak if I gave it to you every day."
"Tired of beefsteak?" I said. "Never. The toughest steak would always be a joy to me."
"I've come to the conclusion," she said, "that men really like their eatables tough."
"Yes, they want something they can bite into, you know."
"But you can't bite into our beefsteak, now can you?"
"Perhaps not," I said, "but you can't help feeling it's there, which is a great help when you're being rationed."
"That," she said, "may be all very well for a man, but women don't care for that feeling. They like their food light but stimulating."
"They do," I said, "and they prefer it all brought in on one tray and at irregular hours. Lord DEVONPORT'S scheme is to them a sort of wicked abundance. To a man it is—"
"Plenty and to spare," she said. "Why, you won't have to tighten your belt even by one hole. Now admit, if you hadn't known you were being rationed you'd never have found it out."
"I will admit," I said, "that if the privations we have suffered this last week in the matter of beefsteaks and that kind of food are the worst that can happen to us we shan't have much to complain of—but I should like a chop to-night instead of a rissole."
"You can call it a chop if you like, but it's going to be a cutlet."
"Well, anyhow," I said, "we don't seem to be doing as much as we might for Lord DEVONPORT."
"You're wrong," she said; "I'm keeping hens in the stable-yard."
"Hens? What do you know about hens?"
"For the matter of that, what do you?"
"That's not the question," I said, "but I'll answer it all the same. I know that most hens are called Buff Orpingtons, and that they never lay any eggs unless you put a china egg in their nest just to coax them along and rouse their ambition. Francesca, have you put a china egg where our Buff Orpingtons can see it?"
"Frederick is looking after these domestic details. He seems to think that if he goes to the hen-house every ten minutes or so the laying of eggs will be promoted. Won't you go round with him next time?"
"No," I said, "I've never seen a hen lay an egg yet, and I'm not going to begin at my time of life. Besides, I've already said they never lay eggs even when you don't watch them."
"Wrong again," she said. "We got one egg this morning."
"Francesca," I said, "this is exciting. Did the happy mother announce the event to the world in the usual way?"
"Yes, she screamed and cackled for about a quarter-of-an-hour, and Frederick came along and seized the subject of her rejoicing. You're going to have it to-night, boiled, instead of soup and fish."
"Isn't that splendid?" I said. "At this rate we shall soon be self-supporting, and then we can snap our fingers at Lord DEVONPORT."
"I never snap my fingers," she said. "No well-brought-up hen-keeper ever does. Besides, it's our duty to help the Government all we can, so that Lord DEVONPORT may have so much more to play with."
"Why should he want to play with it?" I said. "He doesn't strike me as being that kind of man at all."
"I daresay he plays in his off-hours."
"A man like that," I said, "hasn't any off-hours. He's chin-deep in his work."
"Anyhow," she said, "I should like him to know that we're pulling up the herbaceous border and planting it with potatoes, and that we've started keeping hens, and that we've already got one egg, and that when the time comes we shall not lack for chicken, roast or boiled."
"Francesca," I said, "how can you allude so flippantly to the tragedies which are inseparable from the possession of Buff Orpingtons? In the morning a young bird struts about in his pride, resolved to live his life fearlessly and to salute the dawn at any and every hour before the break of day. Then something happens: a gardener, a family man not naturally ruthless, comes upon the scene; there is a short but terrible struggle; a neck (not the gardener's) is wrung, and there is chicken for dinner."
"Don't move me," she said, "to tears, or I shall have to countermand your egg. Besides, I don't think I could ever make a real friend of a fowl. They've got such silly ways and their eyes are so beady."
"Their ways are not sillier nor are their eyes beadier than our Mrs. Burwell's, yet she is honoured as a pillar of propriety, while they—no matter; I hope the chicken when its moment comes will be tender and succulent."
"Hark!" said Francesca.
"Yes," I said, "another egg has come into the world, and there's Frederick rushing round like a mad thing with a basket, to find himself once more too late. Never mind," I said, "I can have two boiled eggs to-night with my chop,—I mean cutlet."
"No," she said.
"Yes," I said, "and you can have all the rissoles."
R.C.L.
ON PROMOTION TO FIELD RANK.
I remember a day when I felt quite tall
Because of a gift of five whole shillings;
I was Johnson major then, I recall,
And didn't I swank and put on frillings!
Well, we know that children are parents of men;
And, now that I'm getting an ancient stager,
Here am I pleased with a crown again,
And signing myself as Johnson, Major.
"Experienced General disengaged 1st March, one lady; no washing; would take England."—Irish Times.
The advertiser should wire to KAISER, Potsdam.
"During the night an enemy raiding party in the neighbourhood of Gueudecourt was driven off by our baggage before reaching our line."—Continental Daily Mail.
There is no end to our warlike inventions. First the Tanks, and now the Trunks.
"The Tigris, immediately above Kut, runs South-East for about four miles. Then there is a sharp bend, and its course is almost due South for about the same distance. Then against the stream it goes due North for about the same distance."—Glasgow Citizen.
With the river behaving in this unnatural fashion General MAUDE deserves all the greater credit for his success.
She (referring to host). "YOU KNOW, THERE'S SOMETHING RATHER NICE ABOUT MR. THOMKINS-SMITH."
He. "YES—I THINK IT MUST BE HIS WIFE."