From his childhood Mr. LLOYD GEORGE has known intimately the romantic stream, named, for some unexplained reason, the Dwyfor river. To its musical murmur may be traced the mellifluous cadences of the statesman's voice employed so effectually in his appeals to Labour and the Paris Conference. Who can say what influences this little Welsh river, with its bubbling merriment, the flashing forceful leap of its cascades, its adroit avoidance of obstacles, may have had upon the career of the statesman of to-day, as through the years it has wound its way from the springs to the ocean? The senior fish of the Dwyfor are well known to him, and they gather fearlessly in large numbers to smile at his bait and to point it out to their friends. Towards the end of the day a humorous incident occurred. A keeper appeared on the opposite bank of the river and excitedly warned the party that they were trespassing, requesting them to retire. To his amazement his demands were ignored, and the trespassers replied to his protests by singing "The Land Song," the PREMIER'S rich tenor voice being easily distinguished above the roar of a neighbouring cascade. * * * * * "Lieut ---- proposed that Mr. ----, our present vice-chairman, be elected to the chair until the usual election of officials took place, by that time a capable member would probably be found willing to accept the position. Mr. ---- thanked the proposer and seconders for their compliment."--_Service Paper._ The new chairman seems to be easily pleased. * * * * * [Illustration: _Sunday School Teacher._ "DEAR ME, MAGGIE, YOU'RE NOT GOING AWAY BEFORE THE SERVICE IS BEGUN?" _Little Girl._ "IT'S OUR FREDDIE, MISS. 'E'S SWALLOWED THE COLLECTION."] * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE. (_By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks._)