Thursday.
Dear Enemy:

SOYEZ TRANQUILLE. I have issued orders, and in the future the
children shall receive all of the cod-liver oil that by rights is
theirs. A wilfu' man maun hae his way.

S. McB.


March 22.
Dear Judy:

Asylum life has looked up a trifle during the past few days--
since the great Cod-Liver Oil War has been raging. The first
skirmish occurred on Tuesday, and I unfortunately missed it,
having accompanied four of my children on a shopping trip to the
village. I returned to find the asylum teeming with hysterics.
Our explosive doctor had paid us a visit.

Sandy has two passions in life: one is for cod-liver oil and the
other for spinach, neither popular in our nursery. Some time
ago--before I came, in fact--he had ordered cod-liver oil for all
{aenemic}
of the{ }--Heavens! there's that word again!
{aneamic}
--children, and had given instructions as to its application to
Miss Snaith. Yesterday, in his suspicious Scotch fashion, he
began nosing about to find out why the poor little rats weren't