_A._ A Roster is a soldier who frequently gets drunk or rowdy. Not what could be called a steady man." * * * * * From a Publishers' advertisement:-- Wild Foods of Great Britain: Where to Find them and How to Cook them. 46 figs. Post free 1s. 9d." The figs alone are worth the money. * * * * * "Leytonstone's best effort was by a wounded soldier, who at great risk of pneumonia gallantly rescued a number of women from a tramcar that couldn't swim."--_Daily Sketch_. The attention of the L.C.C. is respectfully called to this deficiency on the part of its vehicle. * * * * * "A vessel of 30,000 tons may be sunk, but on the percentage table, such as the Admiralty serves up to us, she occupies the same relative position as a one-ton yawl returning with a load of kippers."--_Mr. E. Ashmead-Bartlett in "The Sunday Times."_ Inquiries as to the locality of the kipper fishing-grounds should be addressed to our contemporary. We ourselves hear that it is in the neighbourhood of the fried whitings. * * * * * [Illustration: _Anxious voice_ (_from motor-launch_). "I SAY, CAN YOU TELL ME EXACTLY WHERE I AM?" _Commander of destroyer_. "YES, DEAR OLD THING. YOU'RE IN THE NORTH SEA."] * * * * * TO SMITH IN MESOPOTAMY. Master of Arts, how is it with you now? Our spires stand up against the saffron dawn And Isis breaks in silver at the prow Of many a skiff, and by each dewy lawn Purple and gold the tall flag-lilies stand; And SHELLEY sleeps above his empty tomb Hard by the staircase where you had your room, And all the scented lilacs are in bloom, But you are far from this our fairy-land. Your heavy wheel disturbs the ancient dust Of empires dead ere Oxford saw the light. Those flies that form a halo round your crust And crawl into your sleeping-bag at night-- Their grandsires drank the blood of NADIR SHAH, And tapped the sacred veins of SULEYMAN; There flashed dread TIMOUR'S whistling yataghan, And soothed the tiger ear of GENGHIZ KHAN The cream of Tartary's battle-drunk "Heiyah!" And yonder, mid the colour and the cries Of mosque and minaret and thronged bazaars And fringed palm-trees dark against the skies HARUN AL RASCHID walked beneath the stars And heard the million tongues of old Baghdad, Till out of Basrah, as the dawn took wing, Came up the laden camels, string on string; But now there is not left them anything Of all the wealth and wisdom that they had.