We oldsters feel, that you and everyone
Who through the heat and flies conspire to dish
The "_Drang nach Osten_" of the beastly Hun
Shall win their strenuous virtue's modest wage.
And if at Nishapur and Babylon
The cup runs dry, we'll fill it later on,
And here where Cherwell soothes the fretful don
In flowing sherbet pledge our easeful sage.

ALGOL.

* * * * *

APPROPRIATOR OF TUBERS.

At a time when not a potato was to be found in all Kensington, the Food
Controller decided to form the Potato Appropriations Department. I was
put at its head and received my orders direct from that supreme
official.

Up to the moment of being called upon to take up this important post I
was a Captain on the Staff of an Artillery Headquarters, and my
ignorance of the finer points of the potato was profound. It was
therefore with some trepidation that I proceeded to hold a lengthy
consultation with the Controller on the subject of the organisation and
general duties of my department. My official title, I was told, was
Appropriator of Tubers. I was further informed that, until the
department got into the swing of routine, it had better work under the
direct supervision of the Food Controller. I agreed.