Thus a gulf has begun to yawn between the Baronne and her beloved Lou-lou. Communications are all but broken off. Lou-lou's aunt is in better case, for she is slowly acquiring English; but the Baronne, I think, will never learn any English.
What is to be done?
"The rage for flower-trimming is nothing short of an obeisance."—Evening Paper.
In spite of the War we still bow to the decrees of fashion.
THE JOY TAX.
[By one who is prepared to accept it like a patriot without further protest.]
Now Spring comes laughing down the sky