We regret to see our respected contemporary has not yet abandoned its prejudice against the Upper House.
"A report was read from the Sanitary Inspector who has now joined the 3rd/4th Wilts Regt. This showed that 18 parishes had been infected under the Housing and Town Planning Act, leaving eight parishes still to be dealt with."—Wiltshire Advertiser.
In the interests of the uninfected parishes we trust that the Sanitary Inspector will deal faithfully with the Germs.
LUNCHEON CAUSERIES.
A young lady typist was overheard remarking in a City teashop the other day that she liked Silas Hocking better than Joseph, because the latter was "rather deep." The remark was significant of the new atmosphere of literary enthusiasm which the feminine invaders of business London have brought with them into the luncheon-hour. We are instituting a causerie for the special benefit of this large class of readers, i.e. those who get out of their depth in the transition from Silas to Joseph.
I want to introduce you to-day to a writer whose subtle genius defies analysis but demands reverent appreciation. Ruby L. Binns came into my own intellectual life at a rather critical stage in my reading. Like most young men of the early nineteen-noughts, I had fallen under the spell of Guy Beverley, whose Only a Mill Hand and Squire Darrell's Heir appeared to us the consummation of the novelettist's art. In those days every other young man you met was mouthing the great renunciation scene from the Mill Hand. Small marvel too! As I recall it even now something of the old glamour revives.
"Go!" cried Mary Ellen. "Though you are the Export Manager and I but a poor humble mill-girl, I would sooner beg my bread from door to door than seek it at your hand." She eyed him with pitiless scorn. Jasper Dare went out into the night.