"Andrews's third and last escape was in the War. He was a reservist, went out early, saw a lot of fighting and came through without a scratch till last November, when his trench was rushed and he was taken prisoner. The front trenches at that point were only about forty yards apart, and before he was removed to the rear a British shell lit close to him and blew him back into his own lines. He was badly hurt and, after some months in hospital, was invalided out of the Army, but manages to do the light work I want all right."
We all subscribed to Bastable's view of Andrews's luck—all at least except Barmer, who was a little nettled at having his story eclipsed. "I can believe the yarn about the shell," he said, "but the butter story is a bit thick, and all tales about parrots are suspect."
Bus Conductor. "Blimy! We do want an Air Minister, and no mistake, with things like you floatin' abaht in the sky."
Toujours la Politesse.
"The officer and a man ran in and respectfully shot with a revolver and bayoneted two other men each."—Englishman (Calcutta).
"Washington, Monday.
A representative from Mr. Gerard on his visit to the Kaiser at Headquarters has been received at the State Department, and is now being decoded."—Manchester Daily Dispatch.