(2) Not more than two meals shall be eaten by any person, of whatever size, age or sex, in a day of twenty-four hours.
(3) No meal shall last more than ten minutes.
(4) The mastication of every mouthful shall last not less than thirty seconds.
(5) A mouthful for the purpose of this Order shall not consist of more food than can be conveyed to the mouth in an ordinary teaspoon.
I venture to think that this order, if issued at once and drastically applied, will meet every difficulty, and that we shall hear no more of a shortage.
II.—From Joshua Stodmarsh.
DEAR OLD SPORT,—It won't do—really it won't. I've been doing my best to give your plan of food rations a fair run, and every week I've found myself on the wrong side of the fence. I have never considered myself a large or reckless eater, though I own to having had a liking for a good breakfast (fish, kidneys and eggs, with muffin or buttered toast and marmalade) as a start for the day. Then came luncheon—steak or chop or Irish stew, with a roly-poly pudding to follow, and a top-up of bread-and-butter and cheese. Tea, of course, at five o'clock, with more buttered toast, and then home to a good solid dinner of soup, fish and entrée and joint and some sort of sweet. This just left room for an occasional supper—say three times a week. It doesn't sound out of the way, now does it? And you must remember that I'm not one of your thin, dwarfish, anæmic blokes that you could feed out of a packet of bird-seed. No, I stand six foot, and I don't weigh an ounce under seventeen stone. Dear old boy, you can't have the heart to ask me to do it.
III.—From Miss Lavinia Fluttermere.