hinges and dump your remains on the doorstep for the L.C.C. rubbish cart to
collect.

Another thing: dentists should not be allowed out loose about the streets.
They exercise a blighting influence. You are strolling along in the
sunshine, head high, chest expanded, telling some wide-eyed young thing
what you and HAIG did to LUDENDORFF, when suddenly you meet the dentist.
You look at him, he looks at you, and his eyes seem to say, "What ho, my
hero! Last week you went to ground under my sofa and couldn't be dislodged
until I put the page-boy in to ferret you."

"And what happened then," inquires the wide-eyed young thing, "after you
had caught the Hun tank by the tail and ripped it up with a tin-opener?"

"After that," says the eye of the dentist, "you wept, you prayed, you lay
on the floor and kicked, you--"

"And did you kill all the crew yourself?" bleats the maiden, "single-handed
--every one of them?"

"Oh, I--er," you stutter--"what I mean to say--that is--Oh, dash it, let's
go and get tea somewhere, what?"

PATLANDER.

* * * * *

From the _dramatis personæ_ in a Malta opera-programme:--

"Singers, Old Beans, and Abbés."