Slowly a look of comprehension crossed the face of Adolf Hans Pumpenheim. It was like sunrise upon his grey and stubbly countenance, where three days' growth of beard had thriven in the soil of the guard-room. He was not altogether happy, for he had been found guilty and had paid a fine. But in the course of this ceremony, which appeared to him mystical and obscure, he had encountered one familiar idea, one thought within his power of understanding. Rectitude was a stranger to him, but corruption an old friend: He was not abashed; rather, on the contrary, he was cheered and encouraged. I could see that his heart warmed to me in particular, and I believe that but for his respect for the Court he would have paid me the compliment of a wink. "Let him go," said Blenkin; and the Court adjourned for lunch. * * * * * [Illustration: "SETTLED PEACE! I TELL YOU THERE'S NO SUCH THING. I BURIED THE HATCHET WITH MY STEP-MOTHER AFTER TEN YEARS, AND NEXT MORNING SHE WROTE, 'I'M GLAD YOU'VE SEEN THE ERROR OF YOUR WAYS.'"] "At Newcastle, this afternoon, the airmen, had a great reception. The Lord Mayor handed each a book of views of Newcastle and a box of cigarettes."--_Pall Mall Gazette_. Who says England is not a land for heroes to live in? * * * * * THE EDITOR REGRETS. A few weeks ago there appeared in _Punch_, under the title "A Germless Eden," some verses sent in by an unknown contributor. The Editor is now informed that the original version of these lines was the work of Mr. ARTHUR GUITERMAN, of New York, who published them in 1915 with Messrs. HARPER AND BROTHERS in _The Laughing Muse,_ a collection of his humorous verse. The Editor begs both author and publishers to accept his sincere regrets. * * * * * From a summing-up:-- "If the plaintiff was telling the truth, he had only himself to blame."--_Provincial Paper_. If judges say this sort of thing, no wonder perjury is on the increase. * * * * * [Illustration: "'ERE, EASY ON A MINUTE; WE AIN'T SHOOK 'ANDS YET."] * * * * * MÉLISANDE'S POINT OF VIEW. "About rabies," said Angela. "Well?" said I patiently. "Well, about Mélisande," said Angela. "What about Mélisande?" I replied. "Oh, you know quite well what about Mélisande," said Angela; "about her and Peggy playing so much together. Is it quite wise, do you think? I've been bothering about it for some days now; cats are such queer things and a cat with rabies would be so dreadfully dangerous." "There I quite agree with you," I answered meditatively. "Though I have rather excepted Mélisande from the general rule I have always considered a cat an exceedingly dangerous animal, and a cat with rabies is, of course, ten times worse; it simply oughtn't to be allowed." "I felt sure you would agree with me," said Angela.