"DEAR JACK,--Thanks very much for your nice thought. But you must have mistaken the shop. I'll tell you why. Only this morning I was gazing at the very bracelet, when who should come up but ----. He's an awfully nice fellow, and very determined. When I told him what I was looking at, he actually suggested buying me the bracelet. Of course I said that no lady would dream of accepting a present like that, but he wouldn't hear of a refusal and simply pushed the darling thing into my hand. I am meeting him at the ----'s at luncheon on Friday. So sorry you won't be there. "Yours ever, "PHYLLIS." In reply to which I wrote:-- "DEAR PHYLLIS,--You'd better marry ----. "JACK." Phyllis wrote back:-- "Sorry, shan't be able to now. ---- has just been called up, and sails from ---- for ---- on ----. So perhaps you and I had better be engaged again. I'm longing for a bracelet. "PHYLLIS." There was only one way of answering this superb piece of impudence. I enclosed a blank sheet of paper to Phyllis, signifying my complete indifference. Her still more negative answer was an envelope addressed to me with no enclosure at all. To this I replied by not replying. And here, by all the laws of sequence, our correspondence should have been brought to a standstill. I calculated, however, that when the postman delivered my phantom communication next morning Phyllis would not remain twiddling her thumbs for long. Sure enough, about 9 A.M. I received this wire: "Regret your letter of apology intercepted by Censor. Will take same for granted in consideration of war-time. All is forgiven. Call here this evening with bracelet.--PHYLLIS." * * * * * New Wisdom for Old. _Grattez le Prusse, et vous trouvez le barbare._ * * * * * Illustration: THE SUSPECT. * * * * * INFANTRY. In Paris Town, in Paris Town--'twas neath an April sky-- I saw a regiment of the line go marching to Versailles; When white along the Bois there shone the chestnut's waxen cells, And the sun was winking on the long Lebels, _Flic flac, flic flac_, on all the long Lebels! The flowers were out along the Bois, the leaves were overhead, And I saw a regiment of the line that swung in blue and red; The youth of things, the joy of things, they made my heart to beat, And the quick-step lilting and the tramp of feet! _Flic flac, flic flac_, the tramping of the feet! The spikéd nuts have fallen and the leaf is dull and dry Since last I saw a regiment go marching to Versailles; And what's become of all of those that heard the music play? They trained them for the Frontier upon an August day; _Flic flac, flic flac_, all on an August day!