From "The World of Letters" in _The Observer_: "Some day there will be a cheap edition of Captain Ian Hay's war book, _The First Four Hundred_, and the sale will be immense.... The Blackwoods are old-fashioned modest people, who do not parade figures...." In the present case, however, we do not think they would have objected to the reviewer parading a further 99,600 in the title of IAN HAY'S book. *** "The question of alien waiters in London hotels rests with those who patronise the hotels," says a contemporary. In other words, the pernicious practice which had grown up before the War of ordering German waiters with one's dinner must be abandoned before the hotel managers will remove them permanently from their menus. *** Sir FREDERICK BRIDGE has come out with a strong denunciation of "devilry" in German music. How little we suspected, before the War opened our deluded eyes, that it was no mere lack of skill but the fierce promptings of a demoniac hate that marred our evenings on the esplanade. *** From The _Northern Whig's_ account of a visit to the Cruiser Fleet:--"It was a proud moment when from the deck of a fast-moving destroyer the long lines of the mighty Armada, with here and there the neat little pinnacles darting in and out, were surveyed." Obviously a misprint for binnacles. * * * * * [Illustration: Vivian Vavasour, the melodrama actor, delights in the comparative peace of the trenches.] * * * * * THE AMUSED AND THE AMUSERS. All the windows of the V.A.D. hospital were brilliantly lighted up, and through them floated the strains of a piano and occasional bursts of laughter. Number One Ward, however, was quite empty except for my friend, Private McPhee, stalking majestically up and down as if on sentry go, wearing a "fit of the blues" several sizes too large for him and an expression which would, I believe, be described by kailyard novelists as "dour." "Bong jaw, Mademawselle," he exclaimed, bringing his stick smartly to the salute, "or rather bong saw, tae be correct." McPhee has affected the Gallic tongue since his sojourn in France. "Why, what are you doing all by yourself, McPhee?" I asked. "Are you on duty?" "Na, na," he said, "ah'm pleasin' masel just." He paused and emitted a fierce chuckle. "Ah'm gettin' even," he announced; "they wantit me to gang oot wi' a wumman." "But whatever made them want you to do that, McPhee?" "One o' thae nurses," continued the patient smoulderingly. "Ah fought at Mons, an' Ah fought at New Chapelle, an' Ah fought at Wipers, that's what ignorant pairsons ca' Eepers; and they wantit me to gang oot wi' a wumman. Why for did they no send me oot to fight the Jairmans in a peerambulator?" "Oh," I said, at last enlightened. "But surely, McPhee, the nurses are very nice. And think how hurt they will be if you won't go out with them."