Commander BELLAIRS thought it would be a good idea if the League of Nations, pending the discharge of its more important functions, were to offer rewards for world-benefiting discoveries such as a prophylactic against potato-blight. Sir JOHN REES saw his chance and took it. "Does the League," he inquired, "declare to win on Phosphates, Peace or Potatoes?"--thus supplying proof positive that he owes his precise pronunciation to past practice with "prunes and prisms." It was rather impudent of Mr. ADAMSON, who has just been instrumental in throwing out of work some hundreds of thousands of his fellow-citizens, to initiate a debate on unemployment. Most of the speakers endeavoured to throw the blame on "the other fellow"--the Government on the trade unions, the trade unionists on the employers, and the employers on the Government. A welcome exception was Mr. HOPKINSON, who boldly blamed the short-sighted selfishness of some of his own class. Employes would not work their hardest to "make the boss a millionaire." As a fitting _finale_ to an inconclusive debate the PRIME MINISTER announced that in order to force a settlement of the coal-strike the railwaymen--Mr. THOMAS, apparently, dissenting--had threatened to join the unemployed. * * * * * [Illustration: _Harassed Secretary._ "I SAY, YOU NEEDN'T MAKE BUNKERS, YOU KNOW."] * * * * * Our Erudite Contemporaries. "Willard was game and well trained, and in stature he was Goliath to the Daniel of Dempsey."--_Evening Paper._ A DAVID come to judgment! * * * * * "The rate plague has developed to an alarming extent in Thanet, and considerable anxiety is felt, especially as there appears to be no effective preparation of poison to exterminate them."--_Evening Paper._ And Thanet is not the only place. * * * * * THE TYPE-SLINGER. BITING and keen as any razor The fluent pen of LOVAT FRASER; And swift as arrows, thick as hail, His outbursts in _The Daily Mail_, Exposing in impassioned phrase The PREMIER'S wild and wicked ways. And yet the PREMIER doesn't squirm, No, not a bit--the pachyderm! But goes about with cheerful mien, As if such things had never been. So LOVAT FRASER grows emphatic In efforts to be more dogmatic, And down the column, once a week, _His shrill italics fairly shriek._ But does the PREMIER bow his back And go and give himself the sack? Not he. Indeed, for all he troubles, His critic might be blowing bubbles. It's up to LOVAT FRASER now To make an even bigger row; I'd like to see the sturdy fellow Write articles that simply bellow. I think the PREMIER might perhaps Shiver and possibly collapse IF LOVAT GOT TO WORK IN "CAPS." * * * * * The Black Swan of Avon.