indignantly to the house to pack her box, leaving her employer once
again face to face with the Servant Problem.

* * * * *

THE ARTISETTE.

(_An Engineering School for Women
has been started in Scotland._)

What if my lady should appear
In a mechanic's grimy gear?
I shall not squeamishly decline
To figure at her shrine.

If Vulcan's smoky sway precludes
An assignation in the woods,
I shall not linger less elate
Outside the foundry gate.

When she knocks off at eventide
I'll flutter fondly to her side,
And demonstrate that grease and oil
Can't loosen love's sweet coil.

Most tenderly my tongue shall wag
To Amaryllis on the slag,
Whilst I endeavour to confine
Her horny hand in mine.