Communication may be obtained between London and Paris (including the suburbs), Brussels, Antwerp, Basle, Geneva, Lausanne, and certain provincial towns in France and Belgium. Full particulars may be obtained on application to the Controller." We are afraid these facilities, as far as Belgium is concerned, will shortly be withdrawn. The new Postmaster-General has heard that there is a war on. * * * * * "Winter Laying Strain pure bred White Leghorn Cockerels; record layers: 5s." _Bath & Wilts Chronicle._ Smith minor's translation of _ab ovo usque ad mala_ is thus justified: "It is up to the males to lay eggs." * * * * * "'Thundering' and 'nous' are two of the expressive words of which Sir Ian Hamilton made use of in his Suvla Bay report. It was the Royal Artillery that did 'thundering good shooting.' 'Nous,' meaning gumption, is a word greatly in use in Lancashire." _Daily Mirror._ It has also been met with in Greece. * * * * * "Two labourers employed by the ---- Distillery Company fell a distance of fifty feet into a barley vat yesterday, and when released were found to be suffering from carbolic acid poisoning."--_Weekly Dispatch._ This paragraph will no doubt be freely quoted by temperance advocates as showing what whiskey is really made of. * * * * * From a notice issued by the Sydney Chamber of Commerce:-- "The Fair, which will be officially opened by His Excellency the Governor, will be held at the Town Hall, and will be followed by a Luncheon. Space will be allotted by the foot frontage from 10/- to 15/-." An excellent idea for City dinners. * * * * * "DULCE ET DECORUM." O young and brave, it is not sweet to die, To fall and leave no record of the race, A little dust trod by the passers-by, Swift feet that press your lonely resting-place; Your dreams unfinished, and your song unheard-- Who wronged your youth by such a careless word? All life was sweet--veiled mystery in its smile; High in your hands you held the brimming cup; Love waited at your bidding for a while, Not yet the time to take its challenge up; Across the sunshine came no faintest breath To whisper of the tragedy of death. And then, beneath the soft and shining blue, Faintly you heard the drum's insistent beat; The echo of its urgent note you knew, The shaken earth that told of marching feet; With quickened breath you heard your country's call, And from your hands you let the goblet fall. You snatched the sword, and answered as you went, For fear your eager feet should be outrun, And with the flame of your bright youth unspent Went shouting up the pathway to the sun. O valiant dead, take comfort where you lie. So sweet to live? Magnificent to die!