"That was bravely done," she said. "It encourages me to cut down the Saturday sirloin." "But what will the servants say? They won't like it." "They'll have to lump it then." "But I thought servants never lumped it. I thought they always insisted on their elevenses and all their other food privileges." "Anyhow," she said, "I'm going to make a push for economy and the servants must push with me. They won't starve, whatever happens." "No, and if they begin to object you can talk to them about tonnage." "That ought to bowl them over. But hadn't I better know what it means before I mention it?" "Yes, that might be an advantage." "You see," she said, "Mrs. Mincer devotes to the reading of newspapers all the time she can spare from the cooking of meals and she'd be sure to trip me up if I ventured to say anything about tonnage." "Learn then," I said, "that tonnage means the amount of space reserved for cargoes on ships--at least I suppose that's what it means, and----" "You don't seem very sure about it. Hadn't you better look it up?" "No," I said. "That's good enough for Mrs. Mincer. Now if there's an insufficiency of tonnage----" "But why should there be an insufficiency of tonnage?" "Because," I said, "the Government have taken up so much tonnage for the purposes of the War. How did you think the Army got supplied with food and shells and guns and men? Did you think they flew over to France and Egypt and Salonica?" "Don't be rude," she said. "I didn't introduce this question of tonnage. You did. And even now I don't see what tonnage has got to do with our sirloin of beef." "I will," I said kindly, "explain it to you all over again. We have ample tonnage for necessaries, but not for luxuries." "But my sirloin of beef isn't a luxury." "For the purpose of my argument," I said, "it is a luxury and must be treated as such." "Do you know," she said, "I don't think I'll bother about tonnage. I'll tackle Mrs. Mincer in my own way." "You're throwing away a great opportunity," I said. "Never mind," she said. "If I feel I'm being beaten I'll call you in. Your power of lucid explanation will pull me through." R. C. L. * * * * * [Illustration: _Elder to Beadle._ "Well, John, how did you like the strange minister?" _Beadle._ "No Ava, Elder--he's an awfu' frichtened kin' a chap yon. Did ye notice how he aye talked aboot 'oor adversary, Satan'? Oor own meenister just ca's him plain 'deevil'--he doesna care a dom for him."] * * * * * CANADIAN REMOUNTS.