The vogue for wearing fancy dress threatens to invade ordinary social life.
Tennis at the Vicarage.
A jolly bathing party.
Our dear old friend, the foreign spy (cunningly disguised as a golfer), visits our youngest suburb one Saturday afternoon in quest of further evidence of our lethargy, general decadence and falling birth-rate. He gets a shock and at once telegraphs to his commander-in-chief urging that the conquest of the British Isles be undertaken before the present generation is many years older.