_Irish Times._ Racing, you will be glad to be reminded, still goes on, but of course only for the sake of creating employment. By putting two jockeys upon the same horse the desired end is attained more easily. * * * * * CANUTE AND THE KAISER. [_Thoughts extracted from a sea-shell (howitzer pattern) by Our Own Special Conchologist on the Belgian Coast._] There was a King by name CANUTE (In ancient jargon known as KNUT), And I, for one, will not dispute The kingly figure which he cut; A god in mufti--so his courtiers said-- Whatever thing he chose to have a try at, He did it (loosely speaking) on his head, By just remarking, "_Fiat!_" One day they sat him by the sea To put his virtue to the test, And there, without conviction, he Threw off the following, by request:-- "Ocean," he said, "I see your waves are wet" (Bravely he spoke, but in his heart he funked 'em), "So to your further progress here I set A period, or _punctum_." He knew it wasn't any good Talking like that; and when the foam Made for his feet (he knew it would) He turned at once and made for home; And "I'm no god, but just a man," he cried, "And you, my sycophants, are sorry rotters, Who told your KNUT that he could dare the tide To damp his heavenly trotters." * * * The scene was changed. Another strand; Another god (alleged) was there (In spirit, you must understand; His actual frame occurred elsewhere);-- "O element designed for German ships, Whose future lies," said he, "upon the water, I strike at England! Ho!" and licked his lips For lust of loot and slaughter. Then by the sea was answer made, And down the wind this word was blown: "Thus far! but here your steps are stayed; England is mine; I guard my own!" And as upon his ear this challenge fell, Out of the deep there also fell upon it, or Close in the neighbourhood, a singing shell From H.M. _Mersey_, Monitor. And just as old CANUTE (or KNUT) Stopped not to parley when he found His line of exit nearly cut, But moved his feet to drier ground, So too that other Monarch, much concerned About his safety, looked no longer foam-ward, But said, "This sea's too much for me," and turned Strategically home-ward. O. S. * * * * * WAR AND THE HIGH HAND. _Scene:_ A MOTHERS' MEETING. "They do say as this old Keyser or Geyser or whatever 'e calls 'isself be goin' to 'op it." "Afraid of 'is life, if t'other side should win--that it?" "Likely 'e is--an' well may be. T'other side be our side in that case, bain't it?" "That's it. An' it's 'im for 'isself an' the rest for theirselves, from what I can see." "This old Keyser, 'e's to blame for most ev'rythin' happenin' nowadays. Reg'lar firebran' in our midst, 'e do seem." "Daresay 'e was drove to it, if we could but see all."