"Admiral Jellicoe has a reputation for thoroughness in the naval service, but a story which shows his kindly nature was told to me to-day (says 'F.' in the 'Citizen'). A defence boom was being constructed at Sheerness, and the admiral was dissatisfied with it. He told the officer in command of some defects, and said it was not so good as the boom at Portsmouth." We feel sure there must be even better stories about him than this. * * * * * "THEY ALSO SERVE." Jeremy threw away the stump of his after-dinner cigar and began to light another one. "Where's the economy of giving up smoking when you've got lots of cigars in the house?" he asked. "Oh, Jeremy," said his wife, "who says you ought to?" "The Vicar. He only smokes one non-throat cigarette a day himself. I told him he ought to give that up, but he said it was different. I say, it will want rather a large soldier for that shirt, won't it?" He sat on the arm of his wife's chair and began to play with the sleeve. "Jeremy, can't you find something to do?" "Yes." He went out and returned with his golf clubs, which he began to polish lovingly. "I think I shall have a round to-morrow. If FRANCIS DRAKE played bowls when the Spanish Fleet was in sight, I don't see why Jeremy Smith shouldn't play golf when the German Fleet is out of sight." "I thought you said you weren't going to till the war was over?" "I don't see why I shouldn't. Golf keeps us fit, and it is the duty of every Englishman to be fit just now." "But you really play golf because you like it." Jeremy looked up at her in surprise. "Really," he said, "I don't see why I shouldn't like doing my duty." "Oh, Jeremy!" sighed his wife. "You know I didn't mean that." "I know exactly what you meant." He dropped his clubs and began to pace the room. "You're filled with the idea that the only way a man can serve his country is by doing something he absolutely detests. That's why you made me a special constable." He stopped and glared at her. "A special constable! Me!" "Darling, it was your own idea entirely." "You said to yourself, 'There are men who would make excellent special constables--men with red faces and angry moustaches who take naturally to ordering other people about, men who instinctively push their way into the middle of a row when they see one, men with a lust for gore, great powerful men who have learnt ju-jitsu. But the fact that they'd all rather like it shows that it can't really be their duty to join; they wouldn't be making a big enough sacrifice. The men we want are the quiet, the mild, the inoffensive, the butterflies of life, the men who would simply loathe being special constables, the men who would be entirely useless at it'--and, having said this to yourself, you looked round and you saw _me_." Mrs. Jeremy smiled and shook her head at her husband, sighed again, and returned to her work.