"There is but one survival among the historic shows of the [Crystal] Palace--a portion of the Zoo. The monkeys are asking one another 'What next?' A meeting of the directors of the Crystal Palace Football Club is to be summoned to decide on a course of action." _The Evening News._ Without wishing to be needlessly offensive to either of these bodies, we venture to suggest that they should combine their deliberations. * * * * * "If ... England and France keep the police of the sea with the utmost vigilance, so that no copper at all can reach Germany and Austria, the fate of both Empires seems certain."--_Times._ The land police must be guarded even more vigorously if "no copper at all" is to slip over. * * * * * THE GODS OF GERMANY. [A certain German hierarch declares that it goes well with his country. He finds it unthinkable that the enemy should be permitted to "trample under foot the fresh, joyous, religious life of Germany."] Lift up your jocund hearts, beloved friends! From East and West the heretic comes swooping, But all in vain his impious strength he spends If you refuse to let him catch you stooping; All goes serenely up to date; Lift up your hearts in hope (and hate)! Deutschland--that beacon in the general night-- Which faith and worship keep their fixed abode in, Shall teach the infidel that Might is Right, Spreading the gospel dear to Thor and Odin; O let us, in this wicked war, Stick tight to Odin and to Thor! Over our race these gods renew their reign; For them your piety sets the joy-bells pealing; Louvain and Rheims and many a shattered fane Attest the force of your religious feeling; Not Thor's own hammer could have made A better job of this crusade. In such a cause all ye that lose your breath Shall have a place reserved in high Valhalla; And ye shall get, who die a Moslem's death, The fresh young houri promised you by Allah; Between the two--that chance and this-- Your Heaven should be hard to miss. O. S. * * * * * THE PASSPORT. "Francesca," I said, "how would you describe my nose?" "Your nose?" she said. "Yes," I said, "my nose." "But why," she said, "do you want your nose described?" "I am not the one," I said, "who wants my nose described. It is Sir EDWARD GREY, the--ahem--Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs. In the midst of all his tremendous duties he still has time to ask me to tell him what my nose is like." "This," said Francesca, "is the short cut to Colney Hatch. Will somebody tell me what this man is talking about?" "I will," I said. "I am talking about my nose. There is no mystery about it."