Her quaint little hat,
And shaking the old horse together,
She was off like a bird,
And the last that I heard
Was a "Forrard!" that died in the heather,
As she took up her place
At the tail of the chase
Like a ten-season lord of the leather.

W.H.O.

* * * * *

"In those same eighteen days, Sir Edward tells us, 607 ships of over a
hundred tons arrived and 5,873 left our shores. A German newspaper, it
seems, has been asserting that the mere terror of the submarine has
swept the seas clean at one blow. Twelve thousand ships, in and out, in
eighteen days, does not look, Sir Edward dryly remarked, so very like
paralysis."--_The Times_.

Our Thunderer seems to have imitated its Bosch contemporary, for it has
swept the seas of some 6,000 ships by a stroke of the pen.

* * * * *

"THE SPECTATOR" AND "THE TRADE."

A PAINFUL RUMOUR.

Last week one of our representatives had the honour of calling at the