I will not have them broken up or burned, Although they cease to give me delectation, That mean to keep them suitably interned Throughout the War's duration. But now the Board of Trade, those lynx-eyed gents, Our economic needs severely scanning, The importation of all instruments Have just resolved on banning. No matter; I possess a set of pipes Made in the land whose emblem is the Thistle; Three Indian tom-toms of peculiar types And a Bolivian whistle. I've a Peruvian nose-flute, made of bone, A war-conch brought me from the South Pacific, Which, by a leather-lunged performer blown, Is really quite horrific. I have some balalaikas, few though fit, Whose strings I have acquired some skill in tweaking; And several pifferi, whose tubes emit A most unearthly squeaking. I am, alas! too old and weak to fight, But on these non-Teutonic pipes and tabors I hope a martial spirit to incite In "conscientious" neighbours. And when my time, as soon it must, shall come, My epitaph perhaps might thus begin well: "He 'did his bit' upon the Indian drum; He played the mandolin well. Others who stayed at home to criticize More vocal proved; he, on a falling rental, In furthering the cause of the Allies Was always instrumental." * * * * * In an account of a BURNS' celebration given by the _North Battleford News_ (Saskatchewan), it is remarked that "the absence of any kind of spirituous liquors around the festive board and the fact that the ladies were present" were unique features of the entertainment. But, according to the same report, there was yet another: "'The Immoral Memory' was given by Rev. D. Munro." * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerics._)