"An apple a day keeps the doctor away," quotes a weekly paper. We only hope this is true, for it is impossible to afford both. *** "It is wonderful that there are not more accidents," remarked a Coroner last week. But surely there are. *** The extraordinary report that a domestic servant has been seen at Purley is now explained. It was merely a resident going to a fancy-dress dance. *** A medical paper states that if a man was bitten by a rabid cow he would probably go mad and start grazing in the nearest meadow. Hence the name of the "Pasteur" treatment. *** A dentist in a suburb that shall be nameless has a case of samples attached to the outside of his front door, with an inscription inviting people to choose a set of teeth before entering. Surely it is bad manners for anyone to pick his teeth in public. *** Some distinguished players have declared in favour of larger holes for golf. Our own feeling, however, is that if there is to be any change in the hole it would be better to correct its absurd habit of slipping to one side just as the ball is dropping in. *** There is said to be a craze among girls for entering Government offices. The mania, an overworked official informs us, comes on at 10.15 A.M. and lasts about four hours. * * * * * [Illustration: _Father._ "YES, TOMMY, WHATEVER YOU ATTEMPT THERE IS ONE WAY TO LEARN, AND THAT IS BY BEGINNING AT THE VERY BOTTOM." _Tommy._ "WHAT ABOUT SWIMMING?"] * * * * * "Many of the suburbs and outlying districts of London are experiencing something like a plague of tiny stinging flies similar to, but even more veracious than, the familiar 'midge.' The plague is not confined to low-lying districts."--_Daily Paper._ The very last place in which we should expect to find anything "veracious." * * * * * From a Paris letter:-- "The Majestic and the Astoria, and the other innumerable hotels which house the Allied delegations, are full of the white faces of tired secretaries, whose principles have departed, or, still worse, returned."--_Evening Paper_. We protest against this reflection on the morals of our delegation. * * * * * TO PEACE, ON HER CELEBRATIONS. "Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind" (As Colonel LOVELACE said) if I From festal scenes for you designed To solitude propose to fly; If, when the strident trumpets blare From Hampstead Heath to Clapham Junction, And bunting fills the ardent air, I don't assist at that brave function. It does not follow, let me say, That I am loath to give you cheer; No, in my unobtrusive way I hold you very, very dear; I may not join the loud parade Nor share the crowd's ecstatic tooting, Yet in your honour I have paid Twelve guineas for a summer suiting.