_The Prince. _Of course, my dear Marshal, of course. They're making things warm for you, aren't they, in the direction of Arras? I was saying to myself only this morning, "How annoying for that poor old HINDENBURG to have his masterly retreat interrupted by those atrocious English, and to lose thirteen thousand prisoners and one hundred-and-sixty guns, and I don't know how many killed and wounded. Where's his wall of steel now, poor old fellow, and his patent plan for luring the enemy on?" That's what I said to myself, and now that we have met I feel that I must offer you my condolences. I know what it is, though of course it wasn't _my_ fault that we failed to bring it off against the French at Verdun. Heigho! I'm really beginning to believe that I shall never see Paris. _Hindenburg._ !!! !!! !!! _The Prince._ You needn't look so stuffy, dear old thing. I'm going. But remember _I_ shall be your Emperor some day; and then what shall I do with you? I know; I shall have you taught French. * * * * * [Illustration: DYNASTIC AMENITIES. LITTLE WILLIE (_of Prussia_). "AS ONE CROWN PRINCE TO ANOTHER, ISN'T YOUR HINDENBURG LINE GETTING A BIT SHAKY?" RUPPRECHT (_of Bavaria_). "WELL, AS ONE CROWN PRINCE TO ANOTHER, WHAT ABOUT YOUR HOHENZOLLERN LINE?"] * * * * * [Illustration: _Sergeant._ "PUT YOUR THUMBS DOWN BEHIND THE SEAMS OF YOUR TROUSERS, NUMBER SIX! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK THE SEAMS OF YOUR TROUSERS ARE PUT THERE FOR?"] * * * * * CAUTIONARY TALES FOR THE ARMY. I. _Sergt.-Instructor George Bellairs, who imagined himself to be a master of strong language._ Sergt.-Instructor George Bellairs Prided himself on dreadful swears, And half the night and all the day He thought of frightful things to say. On his recruits in serried squad He'd work them off; he said, "You clod!" "You put!" "You closhy put!" (a curse he Got from _The Everlasting Mercy_, Which shows one can't take care enough, Not knowing who may read one's stuff). With joy he saw his victims quiver, With wicked joy beheld them shiver. Six stretchers in attendance waited To carry off the men he slated. But early in the War there came A squad of men of rowing fame. With them, his choicest oaths he found Fell upon bored and barren ground. He lavished all his hoard, full tale; They did not blench, they did not quail. His plethora of plums he spilt; They did not wince, they did not wilt. Poor fellow! As they left him there, He heard one beardless boy declare, "Jove! what a milk-and-water chap! I thought non-coms. had oaths on tap." Another said, "We'd soon be fit If we were only cursed a bit!" Sergt.-Instructor George Bellairs, He stands and stares, and stares _and stares_; Then (he who late so freely cursed) Tried to express himself and--burst! * * * * * SPRING FASHIONS FOR MEN.