CHILDREN'S TALES FOR GROWN-UPS.

"Be careful," said the worm to the slug, "there is one of those nasty birds over there. What ugly things they are!"

"Not half so ugly as men. Ugh!" said the slug.

"Men are big, not ugly. They don't eat worms."

"But they cut them in two with spades."

"Only by accident. There is nothing so ugly as a bloated over-grown bird eating a slender delicate worm."

"Except," said the slug, "a monstrous man crushing a tender slug under his clumsy hoofs. Birds I can tolerate. They are not so big as men."

"But they hop quicker and eat more for their size," said the worm.

"Not slugs, they don't eat slugs. We have a treaty with the birds, you know."

"Was it signed?" asked the worm.

"There was no need. You see it is a matter of convenience. We don't get eaten, and the birds don't get their beaks slimy."

"Convenience is a great thing," said the worm, "but it isn't everything. Well, good-bye; I am going in till the bird goes."

"And I am staying out till the man comes."

"Slugs are nasty slimy things," said the thrush, "but in these hard times one must eat what one can get," and he swallowed the slug with a wry face.

Extract from a New Zealand school-boy's letter:—

"We also had songs, the College song, and the Harrow School song, for the special benifit (sic) of the Governor, who is an Etonian."

Motor-Launch Officer (who has rung for full-speed without result). "WHAT'S THE MATTER?"

Voice from below. "ONE OF THE CYLINDERS IS MISSING, SIR."

Commander. "WELL, LOOK SHARP AND FIND THE BALLY THING—WE WANT TO GET ON."