Fortunately in our hour of need one man at least has undertaken to do his best for his country. Mr. FRANK HARRIS has told an American newspaper man that he does not intend to return to Great Britain. *** Owing to the increased cost of beer, several seaside resorts are announcing to intending visitors that they cannot guarantee a visit from the sea-serpent this summer. *** April 14th is said to be "Cuckoo Day" in this country, but several days before that the KAISER promised political reform to his people after the War. *** The other night a motor car driven by a French aviator, who was accompanied by three friends, made a tour of Paris, in the course of which it ran down six policemen. It is evident that the gallant fellow could not have been trying. *** _The Star_ is advocating the abolition of betting news in the daily papers, and it is rumoured that its "Captain Cue" is prepared to offer ten to one that this good thing won't come off. *** As a protest against the Government's attitude towards _The Nation_ it is rumoured that Mr. WINSTON CHURCHILL is about to buy another hat. *** A safe which had been stolen from a Dublin business house has now been discovered in a field nine miles away, but the whole of the contents are missing. It is believed to be the work of burglars. *** Potatoes are being grown on all the golf links around London. An enthusiast who is cultivating the ninth hole on one course is offering long odds that bogey will be not less than two tons. *** An electrical engineer has been sent as a substitute for a milker to a Sussex farmer, who, with the characteristic obstinacy of his class, refuses to accept the expert's assurance that all his cows are suffering from dry cells. *** A writer in _The Daily Chronicle_ claims that there are no railway stations in Stoke Newington. It seems incredible that the artistic sense of a Metropolitan community could be so hopelessly stunted. *** The axe is being laid to the roots of our trees by the so-called weaker sex; and the proper way of toasting the new woodwoman is to sing, "For she's a jolly good feller." * * * * * THE GREAT SACRIFICE. Dark lies the way before us, O my sweet! Never again, until the final trumpet Shall sound the Cease-fire, may our glances meet Over the Sally Lunn or crisp brown crumpet; Never again (the prospect makes my soul, Unnerved by going beefless once a week, ache) Shall you and I absorb the jammy roll Nor yet the toasted tea-cake. Never for us shall any fancy bread-- The food of vernal Love, and very tasty-- On lip and cheek its subtle savour shed, Blent with the lighter forms of Gallic pasty; Never shall any bun, for you and me, Impart to amorous talk a fresh momentum, Except its saccharine ingredients be Confined to ten per centum.