WITH ALL THE EVENING?"

"I DUNNO. YOUNG BINKS DOESN'T EITHER. BUT HE SAYS SHE'S THE ONLY WOMAN
IN THE ROOM WITH A GLIMMERING OF HOW TO 'JAZZ.'".]

* * * * *

THOUGHTS IN COMMITTEE.

The War decays; the Offices disperse,
And after many a bloomer flies the don;
All kinds of Bodies perish with a curse,
And only my Committee lingers on,
Still rambles gaily in the same old rings,
Still sighs, "At any rate, we are at one";
Yet even here, so catching, are these things,
Something, I think, is going to be done.

For me, I would not anything were done,
But would for ever sit on this soft seat
Each sweet recurrent Saturday, and run
An idle pencil o'er the foolscap sheet,
The free unrationed blotting-pad, and scrawl
Delightful effigies of those who speak,
But not myself say anything at all,
Only be mute and beautiful and meek ...

Are there not Ministers and ex-M.P.'s,
A Knight, a Baronet, a Brigadier?
Is it not wonderful to be with these,