opportunity of denying this totally unfounded suggestion. Mr. Punch
is not the ex-Kaiser, and never was.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Late Superintendent of Munition Canteen_ (_in dairy
where she has dealt for over three years_). "AND YOU WON'T FORGET THE
CREAM AS USUAL."

_Dairy Girl_. "SORRY, MADAM. I REGRET YOU CANNOT HAVE ANY MORE CREAM,
AS YOU HAVE CEASED TO BE OF NATIONAL IMPORTANCE."]

* * * * *

A LITTLE FAVOUR.

Maisie was terribly upset when she lost her gold curb bangle (with
padlock attached) between the hospital and the canteen. The first I
knew of it was seeing a handbill offering two pounds' reward on our
front gate, with the ink still damp, when I came home to lunch. There
was a similar bill blowing down the road. My wife had some more under
her arm and she pressed them on me. "Run round to the shops," she
said; "get them put right in the middle of the windows where they'll
catch everybody's eye."

The first shop I entered was a hosier's. Since drilling in the V.T.O.
I have acquired rather a distinguished bearing. Shopkeepers invariably
treat me with attention. The hosier hurried forward, obviously
anticipating a princely order for tweeds at war prices. I hadn't the
courage to buy nothing. I selected the nearest thing on the counter, a