If you are fortunate enough to have on board one of those trained sea lions which have been showing for some years at the music-halls, you need not trouble to practise the subterfuges given above. On the enemy's submarine making her appearance on the starboard side you should lower your sea lion over the port side, preferably near the stern, having previously attached to it a bomb connected with wires to a battery. When the sea lion is close to the submarine just press the button. Possibly you will lose your pet, but the general result should be satisfactory. Owing to unavoidable circumstances you may not be able to put into practice any of these hints. If that be so, when the enemy comes aboard, work up a heated discussion on the origin of the War. If skilfully managed, you should draw into the discussion the entire company of the submarine, with the result that you will make time and possibly be got out of your difficulty by one of our patrol ships. Should all and every one of these expedients be useless, as a forlorn hope you should read aloud the appropriate clauses of the Hague Convention, and at the same time take the names and addresses of the boarding party for future reference. If you have an amateur photographer aboard, let him get going. The payment made by illustrated papers for pictures that reproduce the sinking of your ship will probably exceed the value of the ship, so that in any case your owners will not lose by the deal. But it is always best, where possible, to sink the submarine. * * * * * From a letter in _The Liverpool Echo_:-- "At a time like this we must be prepared to have our prejudices shattered. When the whole world has been turned upside down, is it fair that women should be left standing still?" It is a delicate question, and the women must be left to take up their own position in the matter. * * * * * [Illustration: _Village Constable_ (_to the Vicar, who has been hurrying to fetch fire engine_). "SO YOUR 'OUSE IS AFIRE, IS IT? AH! I'VE BIN A-WATCHIN' THAT LIGHT. DIDN'T EXPECT TO RUN INTO _ME_, DID YOU? 'OW'M I TO KNOW YOU BAIN'T SIGNALLIN' TO GERMANY?"] * * * * * JOHNSON. When the task of training scholars Johnson manfully essayed At a school whose Eton collars were the finest ever made, It was largely lack of dollars drove him to the teaching trade. Nature meant, had Fate allowed, him to command a t.b.d., Both his parents gladly vowed him to the service of the sea, But the Navy doctors ploughed him for some _itis_ of the knee. Yet, in spite of this embargo, he had spent each Oxford vac. In a tramp as supercargo or on board a fishing-smack, Till of sailors' lore and _argot_ he was full as he could pack.