Quoth I: "Whence got you, lad, a heart So glad that you must show it?" Quoth he: "The Baker hath his art No less, Sir, than the Poet; I tell ye, I'm so blithe to-night I'd paint the old Moon's orb red! Oh, think ye that I took delight For years in baking war-bread? One shape, one colour and one size, By Government controlled? But now all this to limbo flies; What wonder that to-night I cries 'New--Bread--for Old?' "Good Sir, the Baker hath a soul And loves to make bread pleasant-- The Twist, the long Vienna Roll, The Horseshoe and the Crescent, The Milk, the Tin, the lovely loaf Where currants one discovers, The Wholemeal for the country oaf, The Knot for all true lovers. So, till upon the glowing East The sun in red and gold Comes forth to bake the daily feast, I'll cry with heart as light as yeast, 'New--Bread--for Old!'" * * * * * THE MODERN ICARUS. "After an hour's flight over the frozen Conception Bay and the town of St. John's, Mr. Hawker made a perfect landing. He appeared more than over confident of success."--_Daily Paper_. "General admiration and sympathy is extended to Mr. Tawker due to his frankness regarding his progress towards making the trans-ocean flight."--_Sunday Paper_. We trust our contemporaries are not in a conspiracy to represent the gallant aviator as a hot-air man. * * * * * "Presently, when aviation becomes a commonplace, the fares will come down."--_Daily Dispatch_. That's just what makes us so nervous. * * * * * PEACE TERMS. BEING SOME LETTERS OF MRS. PARTINGTON TO HER SISTER. [Conferences between mistresses and servants are being held in various parts of the country to discuss terms of peace in the domestic world.] _Puddleford_. DEAR MOIRA,--We haven't got a servant yet, but we are clutching at a new hope. There is to be a conference here between mistresses and maids, to discuss and readjust the servants' rights and the mistresses' wrongs--or is it the other way about? Anyhow, I shall attend that conference. I shall bribe, plead, consent to any arrangement if I can but net a cook-general. Ten months of doing my own washing-up has brought me to my knees, while Harry says the performance of menial duties has crushed his spirit. Of course, Harry does make such a fuss of things. You might think, to hear him talk, that the getting up of coal, lighting fires, chopping wood and cleaning flues was the entire work of a household, instead of being mere incidents in the daily routine. If he had to tackle _my_ duties--but men never seem to understand how much there is to do in a house. I will tell you about the conference when I write again. Yours always, DODO. _Puddleford_.