The “Accidental Cycle” series promises to be very popular, a large number of solutions having already been received. It is really very pleasing to see how our readers struggle to acquire useful knowledge, no matter how fantastic the shape in which it is presented. Certain it is that knowledge acquired by solving a puzzle poem is likely to be retained, and we can only hope that when our solvers’ clothes catch fire, there may be a rug, a mat, or a sufficient quantity of mire at hand. We know a doctor who had to examine a class of boys on the ways of dealing with various kinds of accidents. One lad appeared to be very nervous, and the doctor, thinking he was not able to do himself justice before the others, kept him back to test his knowledge alone. “Now,” said the examiner, “supposing I were to catch fire in this room” (a bare schoolroom, by the way), “what would you do?” The boy seemed to be extremely unhappy and vainly searched the ceiling and floor in turn for an inspiration. It was not until the question had been repeated with a kindly word of encouragement that the answer came: “Put it out, sir.” Even then the doctor did not laugh, at any rate not obtrusively. “Excellent,” said he, “but how?” “Throw a blanket over you, sir,” was the more confident reply. As there were no blankets in the building, the doctor gave up his examination in despair, which was, however, somewhat tempered by his thankfulness that the boy’s “knowledge” had not been put to a practical test. This little anecdote, which is perfectly true, suggests the question: “What would you do if the extinguishers mentioned in the puzzle were not available?” Doubtless our readers know; if not, they will be well advised to find out without delay. The puzzle form of our advice was not difficult to decipher, but, regardless of rhythm, many solvers gave the first line as “If your clothing catch fire.” A large number wrote “around” for “about” in line 2, failing to discern the essential difference, and several substituted “end” for “death” in the fourth line. For this latter reading we can find no justification. In “A railway collision” the metre proved to be very troublesome. It is certainly very modern, the lines being respectively, nine, ten, eleven and twelve syllables long. We do not know the rule which governs such a metre, and are inclined to ascribe it that licence which every true poet sometimes takes. Considering the difficulty, we were surprised to find from thirty to forty solutions giving the verse correctly. Three out of the four lines were not difficult to solve, but the progressive nature of the metre not being established, the first was not so easy. In many solutions an adjective was inserted before railway as: “If a terrible railway collision you fear,” and so long as some sort of rhythm was maintained, we did not much object.