drawing advertisements of imaginary commodities. Oblivious to many
happy, beautiful, and noble things in life, he goes about studying and
imitating the literature of the billboards. He and his brother write
newspapers almost entirely devoted to these annoying appeals. You will
note, too, the placard at the mouth of the railway tunnel urging the
existence of Jinks' Soap upon the passing traveller. The oblong object
on the placard represents, no doubt, a cake of this offensive and
aggressive commodity. The zoological garden flaunts a placard, "Zoo, two
cents pay," and the grocer's picture of a cabbage with "Get Them" is not
to be ignored. F. R. W. is more like the London County Council in this
respect, and prefers bare walls.

"Returning from the station," as the guide-books say, and "giving one
more glance" at the passengers who are waiting for the privilege of
going round the circle in open cars and returning in a prostrated
condition to the station again, and "observing" what admirable platforms
are made by our 9 x 4-1/2 pieces, we pass out to the left into the
village street. A motor omnibus (a one-horse hospital cart in less
progressive days) stands waiting for passengers; and, on our way to the
Cherry Tree Inn, we remark two nurses, one in charge of a child with a
plasticine head. The landlord of the inn is a small grotesque figure of
plaster; his sign is fastened on by a pin. No doubt the refreshment
supplied here has an enviable reputation, to judge by the alacrity with
which a number of riflemen move to-wards the door. The inn, by the by,
like the station and some private houses, is roofed with stiff paper.

These stiff-paper roofs are one of our great inventions. We get After
the game is over, we put these roofs inside one another and stick them
into the bookshelves. The roof one folds and puts away will live to roof
another day.