Last week one of our representatives had the honour of calling at the offices of _The Spectator_ to inquire into the credibility of certain strange rumours that have recently been current in The Trade. They were to the effect that Mr. ST. LOE STRACHEY, Editor of _The Spectator_, having gallantly volunteered under the National Service Scheme, had had allotted to him, by one of the DIRECTOR-GENERAL'S subordinates, a post of national importance at Messrs. Bassopp's Brewery. Mr. STRACHEY'S fertile and forcible pen was (so the rumour went) to be employed by this firm in the drawing up of some pungent advertisements under the headings, "The Weakness of the Water Movement," "Up, Glasses!" etc., including a verse series, in Horatian alcoholics, entitled, "Bonnie D.T." It was reported that in the ironic circumstances in which he found himself, Mr. STRACHEY felt it his duty to acquiesce loyally in the change of view imposed upon him, and to adopt a policy of "Down, Spectators!" Our representative is happy to state that he has the highest authority for giving an unqualified denial to these sinister allegations. * * * * * From a description of a wedding-breakfast:-- "The toast of the presents was also duly honoured."--_South African Paper_. After all, next to the bride and bridegroom they are perhaps the most important feature. * * * * * "Field Glasses, powerful magnification; sacrifice, 37/6; cost L175."--_New Zealand Paper_. We don't know about the magnification, but the diminution is most remarkable. * * * * * THE EVERLASTING ROMANCE. The other day I did a perfectly dreadful thing: I intruded, all unconsciously but in the most blundering way, on a love scene. It was in the National Gallery, long famous as the meeting-place of affinities, in the big room where the pictures lent by the Duke of WESTMINSTER and the Duke of BUCCLEUCH are now hanging, and before I knew it I found myself standing between two young people whose eyes were fixed on each other. Naturally I moved away at once, but later I returned and made so bold as to study them a little, for it was clearly, if not yet a passion, a mutual interest of such tender depths that no outsider could affect it.