"The Tanglefoot," continued Sheila, while a sigh of sheer rapture rose from the crowd, "is pre-eminently the car for a medical man or pushful undertaker. No horn is supplied, though this will be fitted if desired. The car is not cheap, but properly used will soon repay itself. Amongst the accessories supplied with the standard chassis I should like to call your attention to the collapsible game-bag and landing-net." This went on for a long, long time, and I stayed till a man in the crowd recognised me and showed symptoms of coming out of his trance. I fled, and returned only at the luncheon interval. "Sheila," I said--"Sheila, this may be fun for you, but James Wrigley and I may sing in the streets to pay for it." "You great stupid"--her eyes were sparking as she spoke--"I've booked more orders than you will be able to carry out before you've learned wisdom. Look!" It was practically a nominal roll of the local capitalists that she showed me. "Nobody believes what you say about a car, so you can say what you like. The thing is to get it noticed." "Did they study these cars much before they let you take their names?" Sheila looked into my eyes and laughed happily. W. K. H. * * * * * Our Eccentric Advertisers. "Youth Wanted to Strike." _Provincial Paper._ * * * * * [Illustration: THE DACHSWOLF. FRITZ (_doubtfully_). "GOOD DOG--IF YOU STILL _ARE_ A DOG."] * * * * * [Illustration: "OH, AUNTIE, 'ZYMOTIC' _IS_ A FUNNY WORD FOR YOU TO BE SO FOND OF." "MY DEAR CHILD, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" "WELL, DADDY SAID YOU WERE VERY FOND OF THE LAST WORD, SO I LOOKED IT UP IN THE DICTIONARY."] * * * * * ABOUT BATHROOMS. Of all the beautiful things which are to be seen in shop windows perhaps the most beautiful are those luxurious baths in white enamel, hedged round with attachments and conveniences in burnished metal. Whenever I see one of them I stand and covet it for a long time. Yet even these super-baths fall far short of what a bath should be; and as for the perfect bathroom I question if anyone has even imagined it. The whole attitude of modern civilisation to the bathroom is wrong. Why, for one thing, is it always the smallest and barest room in the house? The Romans understood these things; we don't. I have never yet been in a bathroom which was big enough to do my exercises in without either breaking the light or barking my knuckles against a wall. It ought to be a _big_ room and opulently furnished. There ought to be pictures in it, so that one could lie back and contemplate them--a picture of troops going up to the trenches, and another picture of a bus-queue standing in the rain, and another picture of a windy day with some snow in it. Then one would really enjoy one's baths.