Meanwhile we want a foretaste of the joy That so much tedious tramping merely stifles: We want to fall upon our--well, deploy, And less of "Stand at ease" and fruitless trifles; _Der Tag_ will come (we whisper it with coy Half-bated murmurings), when we have rifles And uniforms. I want a uniform, Even if not of khaki's steadfast fibre, To make the bright-eyed maidens' hearts more warm And still the mockings of the street-boy giber; Meanwhile, I say, why not deploy and storm The sacred trenches of the Zoo-subscriber? The hour, the place invite. While here we stake Our country's weal on nugatory follies, What are these screams of insolence that wake The bosky silence with perpetual volleys? Give us the word to charge and let us take Yon outpost of the Eagles with our brollies. EVOE. * * * * * "BURGLAR IN BURNING HOSE."--_Liverpool Express._ He must have walked into something pretty hot. * * * * * Editorial Modesty. "CORRESPONDENCE. The Editor does not hold himself responsible for views expressed by Correspondents. SIR,--Your Leader of last week was uncommonly good, and I hope that the writer will give us more from his able pen.--COLONIAL." * * * * * Illustration: GIVING THE SHOW AWAY. GERMAN PRESS BUREAU PHOTOGRAPHER. "COSTUME PERFECT, SIRE--ACCESSORIES ADMIRABLE; BUT, IN VIEW OF ALL THESE 'VICTORIES,' DARE WE SUGGEST THAT THE _EXPRESSION_ MIGHT BE JUST A TOUCH MORE _JUBILANT_?" * * * * * Illustration: _Public-house Diplomatist_ (_to second ditto, with whom he has been discussing the ultimate terms of peace at Berlin_). "I SHOULDN'T BE TOO 'ARD ON 'EM. I'D LEAVE 'EM A BIT OF THE RHINE TO SING ABAHT!" * * * * * THINGS THAT DO NOT MATTER. That section of the public that has felt, while anxiously waiting for definite news of our forces in France, that the communications from "an eye-witness present with General Headquarters" are better than nothing, has probably wondered at the recent paucity of despatches from this descriptive writer. Is it possible that the following has strayed into our hands from its proper destination? A soft wind blew gently from the south-east, and before it the fleecy clouds passed dreamily above the poplar trees. All was quiet; not even an old public-school boy was washing his face. Then, gently but firmly, the "boom, boom" of the guns assailed the ear, telling of battle not far distant.