And we of milder mould, And we who're growing old, Wish they would wash, like other folk, elsewhere; It makes us feel quite cold To think of them refrigerating there; We shiver in our beds; Our pitying molars chatter in our heads.
VINDICTIVE MEN AS PROGRAMME SELLERS."--_Times_.
After what men have suffered from the flag-day sex, no wonder they get vindictive when they have a chance of retaliation.
"The causes of the engineers' strike in London are a little obscure, but the stoppage of the ten minutes allowed for tea before the 47-hour day was introduced brought the men out from one motor works."--_Provincial Paper_.
The great objection to a day of this length is that it gives so little scope for overtime.
"The Association for the Betterment of the Highlands and Islands of the Free Church of Scotland have prepared and presented to the Secretary for Scotland a memorandum on the reconstruction of the Highlands."--_Scots Paper_.
We have always thought that judicious thinning of the more congested views would help the tourist.
"The men who had watched the daily search set up a cheer, ffi---- ----fl."--_Sunday Paper_.
We hope the cheer was more hearty than it appears at first sight.
_Persons of the dialogue_: Arthur Pillwell, M.D., _a fashionable physician;_ Henry Swallow, _a patient. The scene is laid in_ Dr. Pillwell's _consulting-room--a solid room, heavily furnished. A large writing-table occupies the centre of the scene. There are a few prints on the walls; two bookcases are solidly filled with medical books._ Dr. Pillwell _is seated at the writing-table. He rises to greet his patient._
_Dr. P._ Good morning, Mr. ---- (_He looks furtively at a notebook lying open on the table_) Mr.--ah--Swallow.
_Mr. S._ (_thinking to himself: Ought I to call this Johnnie "Doctor," or not? I'm told they're very particular about a thing like that. Like a fool, I never gave it a thought. Still, I can't go so very far wrong if I call him "Doctor." Besides, he's got to be called "Doctor" whether he likes it or not. Here goes._) (_Aloud_) Good morning, Dr. Pillwell. I've been troubled with some symptoms which I can't quite make out. I think I described them in my letter. (_To himself: They made several doctors Knights of the British Empire, and I'm almost certain Pillwell was one of them. Sir John Pillwell. Yes, it sounds all right; but I shan't call him "Sir John" because if he isn't a knight he might think I was trying to make fun of him and then he might retaliate by calling me "Sir Henry," and I should hate that_). (_Aloud_) The chief symptoms are a steady loss of appetite and a disinclination to work. I was recommended to consult you by my friend, Mr. Bolter, as I think I explained in my letter.