"Horace ----, labourer, was charged with using insulting language.
He was said to be training for the Navy and the case was accordingly
dismissed."--_Local Paper_.

* * * * *

"If people would wear the same underclothing all the year round,
and with or without the aid of a thermometer against their bedroom
window vary their outer garments only, they would never be
inconvenienced by changes of temperature."--_Letter in Daily Paper_.

And they would make an appreciable saving in their laundry bills.

* * * * *

THE MUD LARKS.

"_Gurr finny,"_ says T. Atkins, and there seems no doubt about the
well-known War being over at last. Home-keeping folk, who imagine it
ended when the whistle blew at the eleventh hour of November 11th, are
wide, very wide, of the mark. We have experienced some of its direst
horrors since then. Why, at one time (and not so long ago) we were
without the bare necessities of life itself.

I have seen hardy old soldiers; banded like zebras with wound-stripes
and field-service chevrons, offering to barter a perfectly good horse
for a packet of Ruby Queen cigarettes, or swap a battery of Howitzers
for a flagon of Scotch methylated. Then came the Great Downfall. Nabobs,
who for years had been purring about back areas in expensive cars,
dressed up like movie-kings, were suddenly debussed and dismantled.