"Anyhow," she said, "it's a comfort to think you won't have to write to the Sultan of Morocco."
R. C. L.
THE LORD OF THE LEVIATHANS.
There harbours somewhere in our midst to-day
A visionary whom I long to meet;
He shuns publicity, and yet his sway
Is felt in many a teeming London street,
From staid Stoke Newington to sylvan Sheen,
From gay Mile End to high-browed Golder's Green.