Chapter C: F. S

* * * * *

"BAG AND BAGGAGE."

"According to present arrangements the Turkish Peace Treaty
will be presented to the Turkish delegation on May 11 at
4 p.m. in the Cloak Room of the French Foreign
Office."--_Times._

These ceremonies are usually conducted in the Salon de l'Horloge, but the new _venue_ was doubtless thought more appropriate for disposing of the Turkish _impedimenta_.

* * * * *

THE STRIKE AGAINST THE PRICE OF CLOTHES IS SPREADING.

[_Fashion Note._--Lady Germanda Speedwell was seen walking in the Park looking sweet in a rhubarb-leaf hat, the stalk worn at the side. Her corsage was of clinging ivy leaves, in contrast to the fuller effect of her banana-skin skirt. Her companion wore the usual morning-coat and kilt of grass, but struck a new note with a pumpkin hat.]]

* * * * *

THE MAKING OF A CRISIS.

[We are privileged to-day to publish an unwritten chapter from Mr. H. G. WELLS' _History of the World_. It is entitled "The Slime Age," and has a topical interest since it outlines the methods of production of the Crisis, the only article of which the supply to-day exceeds the demand.]

Out of all this muddle and confusion and slipshod thinking there arose one man with a purpose, one man who fixed his eyes on a single inevitable goal and walked straight at it, not minding what or whom he trod upon on the way. His purpose was the mass-production of crises, and he created crises as rabbits create their young, nine at a time. In those fuddled incompetent days before the Great War the crisis was a little-known phenomenon. Here and there in the drab routine of peaceful corpulent years there flashed in the prosperous firmament the baleful light of a great anxiety. Agadir was one; CARSON and his gun-runners was another. But they were few; they came like rare comets and were forgotten.

Then in the Great War a new habit was born in the minds of the people, the habit of crises. Even then at first they came decently, in ordered succession--Mons, Ypres, the Coalition, Gallipoli. But the people's craving was insatiable; the people cried for more crises.

Then this man stood up and said to the people, "I will give you crises."

And he did. Instead of a casual crisis here and there, to every year a crisis or two, he gave them a crisis every month, every week, every day, and still they were not satisfied. And so, at last, out of all the muddle and waste and pettifogging stupidity this man created crises as men create matches, by the gross. And this was how he created them:--

_Extract from "The Slime," April 3rd, a paragraph in the Foreign Intelligence:--_

"BOBADIG, _April 1st._

"A party of French mules, passing to their quarters in the vilayet of Arimabug, were to-day attacked by an Australian sheep on the staff of the British Military Mission. It is feared that many of the mules were injured. Feeling runs high among the peasantry, incensed already by the failure of the British Government to provide mosquito-nets for the sacred goats."

_Extract from a leading article in "The Slime," April 6th, on Land Tenure in Wales:--_

" ... Parliament to-day will be occupied with the preposterous Budget proposals, but we hope our legislators will find time to press the PRIME MINISTER for an explanation of the outrageous incident at Bobadig reported in our columns last week. There is only too good reason to fear that the policy of alternate violence and inertia, against which we have so often protested, has at last inflamed the law-abiding animals of Bobadig ..."

_From "The Slime" Special Correspondent:--_

BOBADIG, _April 8th._

"Since my last message (much mutilated by the Censor) events have moved rapidly. Two of the mules have died of their injuries in hospital; three others lie in a dangerous condition at Umwidi, four miles away, where they fled for refuge from the wanton onslaught of the Australian sheep. This sheep, it now transpires, was the personal attendant of General Riddlecombe, Head of the Military Mission, a circumstance which is not calculated to allay the local animosity which the incident has aroused. The situation will require all the tact that the British Government can command."

_Extract from the Special Crisis Column of "The Slime," April 11th:--_

"ANGLO-ARMENIAN RELATIONS. GRAVE WARNING.

"In a telegram which we print in another column our Special Correspondent in Armenia confirms to-day the serious fears to which we gave expression in our issue of April 6th concerning the possibility of a crisis in Anglo-Armenian relations. The incident of the Bobadig mules is already bearing fruit, and we can no longer doubt that popular feeling in the vilayet of Arimabug has been dangerously inflamed by the obtuse procrastination of the British Government. These unfortunate mules...."

"SCRATCHIPOL, _April 10th._

"Communications with Bobadig have broken down, but it is reported that a mule was buried there on Sunday in circumstances of great popular excitement. A large crowd followed the body to the cemetery and made a demonstration after the ceremony outside the house of the local veterinary surgeon, who is alleged to have treated the animal for mumps instead of sheep-shock, with fatal results."

_From "The Slime," April 14th.--_

"GRAVE CRISIS. ARMENIAN ANGER. THE MURDERED MULES.

"As we feared, a serious crisis has arisen in Anglo-Armenian relations. At Bobadig a third mule has perished and his interment was made the occasion of a great popular demonstration against the policy of Great Britain. In diplomatic circles no one is attempting to conceal that the situation is extremely grave. The PRIME MINISTER has returned to Downing Street from Le Touquet. Shortly after his arrival the Armenian Minister drove up in a motor-cab and was closeted with the PREMIER for a full ten minutes. After lunch, Lord Wurzel arrived in his brougham. At tea-time the Minister of Mutton-Control dashed up in a 24 'bus, followed rapidly by the Secretary of State for War on his scooter. Mr. Burble wore an anxious look...."

_Extract from a leading article in "The Slime," April 16th:--_

"SPIT IT OUT.

"We trust it is not already too late to appeal to the Government to extricate the Empire from the perilous position in which their wilful stupidity has placed it. The news from Bobadig is exceedingly serious. Another of the affronted mules has perished in circumstances of the foulest indignity; it only remains for the other two to die for the triumph of British statesmanship to be complete. These wretched creatures are being slowly sacrificed for the foolish whim of a British Prime Minister. No doubt remains that they have been subjected to sheep-shock by the savage bites of the Australian animal. The Government, blinded by its own infatuate folly and deaf to the storms of popular indignation in this country, continues to treat them for mumps.... By this test the Government will be judged at the forthcoming election. They must realise that the time for trifling is past. If the resources of the British Empire are unable at this date to combat the menace of sheep-shock among the loyal mules of Bobadig, then indeed.... At least we are entitled to ask for an explanation of the presence of an infuriated sheep on the staff of a British General. The PRIME MINISTER...."

_From "The Slime," April 17th.--_

"AT LAST.

The situation in Bobadig is easing rapidly. The Government has at last carried out the instructions of _The Slime_, and we understand that a Ministerial expert in sheep-shock has been sent to the assistance of the surviving mules. But while we may congratulate ourselves on the lifting of the clouds in that direction matters in West Ham give ground for the gravest anxiety. The wood-lice of West Ham are proverbially of an irritable nature, and the attitude of the Government has been calculated for some time to inflame...."

_From "The Slime," April 19th.--_

"BOBADIG CRISIS OVER.

PREMIER YIELDS.

We are glad to report ..."

_From "The Slime," April 20th.--_

"WEST HAM CRISIS BEGINS.

WOOD LICE IN REVOLT.

GRAVE WARNING.

Once again we must warn the Government...."

And so on.

A. P. H.

* * * * *

_Party in Check Cap._ "WILL YOU HAVE MY PLACE, SIR?"]

* * * * *

"Three swift fierce rounds between Beckett and Wells and the
18,000 spectators at Olympia last night witnessed the close of
yet another great ring drama."--_Daily Chronicle._

"Beckett ... bowed more by instinct than of set purpose to the
shouting, over-wrought people who from the floor of Olympia
shot up to the ceiling."--_Daily Telegraph._

We had no idea until we read these paragraphs that the spectators took such an active part in the proceedings.

* * * * *

* * * * *

THE FAIRY BALL.

"I am asked to the ball to-night, to-night;
What shall I wear, for I must look right?"
"Search in the fields for a lady's-smock;
Where could you find you a prettier frock?"

"I am asked to the ball to-night, to-night;
What shall I do for my jewels bright?"
"Trouble you not for a brooch or a ring,
A daisy-chain is the properest thing."

"I am asked to the ball to night, to-night;
What shall I do if I shake with fright?"
"When you are there you will understand
That no one is frightened in Fairyland."

R. F.

* * * * *

"WIT AND HUMOUR.

Ashton and District Undertakers' Association have advanced
the prices of hearse and carriages for funerals."--_Yorkshire
Paper._

If this is the kind of humour that appeals to our contemporary it should alter the heading to "Grave and Gay."

* * * * *

_Club Member (owner of thirty thousand acre estate)._ "I TELL YOU WHAT IT IS--I MUST REALLY GET MY HAIR CUT. DASH IT, I'VE GOT THE MONEY."]

* * * * *

COMMUNISM AT CAMBRIDGE.

[Bolshevism and Communism claim many adherents among the young
intellectuals at our ancient Universities.--_Vide Press._]

I am a Socialist, a Syndicalist, an Anarchist, a Bolshevist--whatever you like to call me; if you wish to be precise, an International Communist.

Anyhow, as such I am opposed tooth-and-nail to the iniquity of the existing Competitive System. It is my intention to devote my life to its eradication, in whatever form it may be disguised, and to inaugurate an era of loving-kindness, peace, leisure and plenty, similar to that now enjoyed by the people of Russia.

But my duties do not lie only in the distant future; they are here, in the present, facing me in the University. For never, I think, was the unclean thing, Competition, so prevalent and unabashed as at Cambridge to-day.

Both in work and in sport is the evil rampant. Take as an example the reactionary custom of dividing the Tripos Honours List into three classes. Can you imagine anything more inducive to competition? Worse, it is a direct invitation to the worker--often, I am proud to say, unheeded--to exceed the one-hour-day for which we Communists are striving.

Even more deplorable is the competitive spirit in sport; more deplorable because more insidious. Even those whom we are wont to regard as our comrades and leaders are not always proof against the canker in this guise. I remember paying a visit to Fenner's, that fair field corrupted by competition, to raise my protest against inter-collegiate sports. To my indescribable grief and amazement I beheld one whom I had always followed and reverenced--a man of mighty voice oft lifted in debate--preparing to _compete_ (mark the word) in a Three-Mile Race. "Stay, comrade," I cried. He heeded me not; moreover, it certainly appeared to me that he attempted--thank God, unsuccessfully--to win the race. Maybe I go too far in ascribing to him this desire to come in first, with a resultant triumph over his fellows; but was not his very entrance a countenancing of evil? Had he considered the feelings of bitter enmity inspired in the many who toiled behind him? And the encouragement to College rivalry!--a rivalry in no way differing from that between nations, save that College distinctions are, of course, less artificial.

It becomes obvious, I think, to every unprejudiced observer that most of the games now unfortunately so popular at the University--rowing, cricket, football and the like--_must go_. But let it not be assumed that the Communist is averse from recreation properly conducted; far from it. There is no possible objection to diabolo or top-spinning, for instance, and, though competitive marbles must not be played (whether on the Senate House steps or elsewhere), solitaire may be permitted as in no way provoking the deplorable spirit of rivalry.

Of other games the Communist will discard bridge, billiards and "general post"; and even "hunt-the-slipper" and "hide-and-seek" are not altogether free from the competitive taint. But an excellent game is open to him in "patience," while there is no pastime more indicative of the true Communistic spirit than "ring-a-ring o' roses," so long as proper care be taken that at the last "tishu" all the players collapse simultaneously.

* * * * *

"OLD CONTEMPTIBLE" (_to Member of the Royal Irish Constabulary_). "WELL, MATE, I HAD TO STICK IT AGAINST A PRETTY DIRTY FIGHTER, BUT THANK GOD I NEVER HAD A JOB QUITE LIKE YOURS."]

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

_Monday, May 10th._--But for the presence of a handful of Irish Peers and of Sir EDWARD CLARKE (looking little older than when he pulverised GLADSTONE'S second Home Rule scheme in 1893) you would never have thought that this was the first day in Committee of the Bill "for the better government of Ireland." The Ulstermen were on duty in full force, but the bench on which the Nationalists are wont to sit was, like their beloved country, "swarming with absentees."

LORD HUGH CECIL.]

Lord HUGH CECIL, like _Harlequin_, smote everyone impartially, one of his most telling strokes being the remark that the PRIME MINISTER could not distinguish between the art of winning an election and the art of governing a country; but otherwise his performance was about on a par with that of Mr. JACK JONES, who spoke against the Amendment and voted for it. Mr. BONAR LAW'S declaration that the Bill, however unacceptable to Ireland at the moment, furnished the only hope of ultimate settlement, coupled with the Ulster leader's promise that, much as he loathed the idea of a separate Parliament, he would work it for all he was worth, carried the day. Mr. ASQUITH'S Amendment was knocked out by 259 to 55.

In subsequent Amendments other Members attempted to emphasise the idea of ultimate union by calling the statutory bodies "Councils" instead of "Parliaments," and by setting up a single Senate to control them both. But they did not meet with acceptance. Captain ELLIOTT thought the first as absurd as the idea that you could make two dogs agree by chaining them together, and Mr. LONG dismissed the second with the remark (which shows how rapidly his political education has advanced since the Parliament Act) that he was in great doubt as to whether a Second Chamber was in itself a protection for minorities.

SIR EDWARD CARSON.]

_Tuesday, May 11th._--Lord LONDONDERRY moved the second reading of the Air Navigation Bill. An important part of the Bill relates to trespass or nuisance by aeroplanes. The rights of the property-owner _usque ad coelum_ will obviously have to be considerably modified if commercial aviation is to be possible; but Lord MONTAGU entered a _caveat_ against accepting the provisions of the Bill in this regard without close examination. Constant flying over a man's house or property might, as he said, constitute a serious nuisance. Imagine an "air-drummer," if one may so call him, hovering over a Royal garden-party and showering down leaflets on the distinguished guests.

The little _coterie_ that is so nervously anxious lest this country should do anything to assist the Poles in their attacks on the Bolshevists was particularly active this afternoon. Even the SPEAKER'S large tolerance is beginning to give out. One of the gang announced his intention of repeating a question already answered. "And I give notice," said Mr. LOWTHER, "that if the hon. and gallant Member does repeat it I shall not allow it to appear on the Notice-paper."

Another hon. Member wanted to know why, if we were not helping the Poles, we kept a British mission at Warsaw. "Among other things," replied Mr. CHURCHILL, "to enable me to answer questions put to me here." A third sought information regarding the expenditure of the Secret Service money, and was duly snubbed by Mr. CHAMBERLAIN with the reply that if he answered the question the Service would cease to be secret.

The rejection of the Finance Bill was moved by Mr. BOTTOMLEY. In his view the CHANCELLOR was making a great mistake in trying to pay off debt, especially if it meant the taxation of such harmless luxuries as champagne and cigars. "Let posterity pay," was his motto. Still, if Mr. CHAMBERLAIN was determined to persist in his foolish course, let him give him (Mr. BOTTOMLEY) a free hand and he would guarantee to raise a thousand millions in a month. The best comment on this oration was furnished by Mr. BARNES, who strongly advocated a tax upon advertisements.

_Wednesday, May 12th._--The prevalent notion that the only road a Scotsman cares about is that which leads to England cannot be maintained in face of Lord BALFOUR'S vigorous indictment of the Ministry of Transport for its neglect of the highways in his native Clackmannan. The Duke of SUTHERLAND was equally eloquent about the deplorable state of the Highlands, where the people were not even allowed telephones to make up for their lack of transport facilities. "Evil communications corrupt good manners," and there was real danger that the Highlanders would vote "Wee Free" at the next General Election. Appalled by this prospect, no doubt, Lord LYTTON hastened to return a soft answer, from which we learned that three-quarters of a million had already been allocated to Scottish roads, and gathered that the dearest ambition of Sir ERIC GEDDES was to share the fame of the hero immortalised in the famous lines:--

"Had you seen but these roads before they were made
You would hold up your hands and bless General WADE."

Only Mr. KIPLING could do full justice to the story of the abduction, pursuit and recapture--all within thirty-six hours--of an English lady at Peshawar. Even as officially narrated by Mr. MONTAGU it was sufficiently exciting. The most curious and reassuring fact was that all the actors in the drama, abductors and rescuers alike, were Afridis. It is to be hoped that this versatile community includes a cinematograph operator, and that a film will, like the lady, shortly be "released."

SIR ROBERT HORNE WELCOMES A USEFUL ALLY.]

The miners' representatives made an unselfish protest against the increase in the price of coal. Although it would justify them in demanding a further increase in their present inadequate wage they did not believe it was necessary or, at any rate, urgent. Sir ROBERT HORNE assured them that it was, and that the present moment--the season in happier days of "Lowest Summer Prices"--had been selected as the least inconvenient to the public.

_Thursday, May 13th._--Ireland maintains its pre-eminence as the land of paradox. Among the hunger-strikers recently released from Mountjoy prison were (by an accident) several men who had actually been convicted. The House learned to its surprise that these men cannot be re-arrested, but are out for good (their own, though possibly not the community's); whereas the untried (and possibly innocent) suspects may be re-arrested at any moment.

The new Profiteering Bill, which, to judge by the criticisms levelled against its exceptions and safeguards, will be about as effective as its predecessor, was read a third time. So was the Health Insurance Bill, but not until a few Independent Liberals, led by Captain WEDGWOOD BENN, had been rebuked for their obstructive tactics by Mr. MYERS and Mr. NEIL MACLEAN of the Labour Party. As the small hours grew larger this split in the Progressive ranks developed into a yawning chasm, and the Government got a third Bill passed before the weary House adjourned at six o'clock.

* * * * *

_Old Soldier (who has produced a small note-book)._ "ALL RIGHT, SERGEANT, I'M ONLY KEEPING A RECORD OF THE 'FAG END' JOKE. I'VE NOW HEARD IT TWO THOUSAND FOUR HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN TIMES."]

* * * * *

"It has been arranged that the Speaker shall make the
presentation of plate [to Miss BONAR LAW], and Mr. Lloyd
George and Mr. Asquith will take part."--_Daily Chronicle._

It is hoped that they will leave a substantial portion for the bride.

* * * * *

A SMALL FARM.

To all of you who have begun to gaze pensively at railway posters, to furrow your brows over maps and guide-books, or hover sheepishly about the inquiry offices of Holiday Touring Agencies, I would whisper: "Go to a small farm and bask."

You will note that I say a _small_ farm. A large farm has much that is pleasant and pungent about it, but to my mind you cannot bask properly on a large farm. You are too much in the way. The medley of barns, byres, styes, rods, poles and perches is a hive of restless energy. Unless you are walking about with a bucket or prodding something with a stick you feel you have no right to be there. On a large farm you are expected to accompany your host across a couple of ten-acre fields to look at his young wheat. Some people can tell what is the matter with a field of young wheat by merely leaning on a gate and glancing at it. Unless I can feel its pulse or take its temperature I cannot tell whether young wheat is suffering from whooping-cough or nasal catarrh. All I can do is to nod my head sagely and say that, considering the sort of Government we have got, it looks pretty flourishing. Then my host remarks that he has got a young bull in Bodger's Paddock (about three miles across country) that it will do my heart good to see. That is the worst of a large farm; anything you want is sure to be several fields away from you.

Now at the small farm which I recommend, but the address of which I am not going to give away, you may lie and bask by the duck pond and be quite in the picture. Further, if a sudden irresistible desire for something--a hoe or a cow, for example--should come over you, you have only to put out your hand and grab it. There is a compactness about the place. They do not put the cattle in odd fields five miles apart, but leave them to lounge round the duck pond or sit in the front garden, where they can be collected without effort. There are no energetic squads of farm-labourers; no bustling battalions of land-girls with motor-plough attachments. The outdoor staff is generally to be found sitting on a bucket by the duck pond rubbing at a bit of harness and looking decently rural. When he has rubbed the harness he stands up and looks at the young wheat. Then he turns round and glances at the mangel-wurzel field. If the appearance of it displeases him he reaches out for a rake and puts it right. Then he sits on the bucket again and has lunch.

When you go to bed at this farm you knock your head against the lintel of the sitting-room with a force corresponding to your height and vitality. Then you hit your head a second time when ascending the stairs and again on entering the bedroom. If you are a heavy breather you sweep the ceiling clear of flies and cobwebs while you sleep. At dawn, or possibly an hour or so before (for he is a nervously conscientious bird), the farm cock steps off the roof of the cow-shed on to your window-sill and bursts into enthusiastic admiration of himself and things in general. Some people of an egoistic and unimaginative temperament get up at once, in order that they may spend the rest of the day telling you how much they enjoyed the sunrise and what a fool you were to miss it. The true basker, on the other hand, declines to be a party to a procedure which destroys the whole poetry of dawn and reduces the proud chanticleer to the sordid status of an alarum-clock. He simply pushes the bird off the window-sill with his foot, turns over and goes to sleep. And later on, when the sound of other people knocking their heads against various portions of the building arouses him, he goes to sleep again.

* * * * *

_Member of the New Plutocracy._ "WELL, I'VE ONLY ONE NECK, AIN'T I?"]

* * * * *

"COUNTRY JOINER Wanted."

_Advt. in Provincial Paper._

To work on the Channel Tunnel?

* * * * *

BRIDGING THE LITERARY GULF.

(_Famous Publisher's Great Scheme of Reconciliation._)

Hearing on good authority that Mr. Blinkingham, the well-known publisher, was about to launch an enterprise of a magnitude only comparable with that of the _Ency. Brit._ or the _D.N.B._, Mr. Punch hastened to headquarters for confirmation of the report, was graciously admitted to his presence and furnished with the following interesting details. Mr. Blinkingham, it may be mentioned, is at all points a finely equipped representative of his class, handsome, well-groomed and wearing his monocle with distinction. His sanctum is furnished with delightfully catholic taste--Louis Quinze furniture, a Japanese embossed wall-paper, pictures by BOTTICELLI and Mr. WYNDHAM LEWIS and statuettes of PLATO, VOLTAIRE and Mr. WELLS (the Historian, not the Bombardier).

After some preliminary observations on the deplorable condition of the pulp industry, Mr. Blinkingham unfolded his colossal scheme. "By way of preface," remarked the great literary _impresario_, "let me call your attention to the momentous statement made by the Editor of _The Athenaeum_ in the issue of May 7th: 'We doubt whether there has ever been a generation of men of letters so startlingly uneducated as this, so little interested in the study of the great writers before them.' The Editor of _The Athenaeum_ takes a most gloomy view of the situation, which is fraught with an atmosphere of hostility and suspicion inimical to a revival of criticism. Yet he sees in such a revival the only way of salvation, the only means of healing the internecine feud which is now convulsing the young literary world.

"For my own part I am convinced that a better way is to lure back the modernists to a study of great writers by presenting them in a more palatable form, not by compressing or abridging them--for that has been tried before--but by having them re-written in conformity with present-day standards by eminent contemporary writers. This notion had been germinating in my head for some time past, but I did not see my way clear until I read the luminous and epoch-making remark of Mr. C. K. SHORTER, that he would sooner have written _Tom Jones_ than any book published these two hundred years. In a moment, in a flash, my scheme took shape. 'He shall write it, or rather re-write it,' I said to myself, and I have already submitted to this eminent man of letters my rough _scenario_ of the lines on which FIELDING'S novel should be brought home to the Georgian mind. In reply he has made a counter-suggestion that the characters should be rearranged on a Victorian basis, CHARLOTTE BRONTE replacing _Sophia_, THACKERAY _Mr. Allworthy_, while the title-role should be assigned to an enterprising publisher. But I am not without hope that he will adopt my plan.

"The revival of interest in the works of RICHARDSON, the other great eighteenth-century novelist, is, I think I may safely say, a foregone conclusion. Miss DOROTHY RICHARDSON has enthusiastically welcomed the proposition that she should reconstruct the romances of her illustrious namesake, and confidently expects, on the basis of the method employed by her in _The Tunnel_, that she will be able to excavate at least a hundred volumes from the materials supplied in _Sir Charles Grandison_ and _Clarissa Harlowe_.

"Nor shall we overlook the earlier masters. Professor CHAMBERLIN, whose thrilling lectures on QUEEN ELIZABETH and Lord LEICESTER have been the talk of the town for the last fortnight, has kindly undertaken to organise a new _variorum_ version of the Plays of SHAKSPEARE, with the assistance of Mr. LOONEY, the writer of the recently-published and final work on the authorship of the plays. MILTON will be presented in both verse and prose, Mr. MASEFIELD having promised to re-write his epic in six-lined rhymed stanzas, shorn of Latinisms; while a famous novelist, who does not wish her name to appear at present, has consented to recast it in the form of a romance under the title of _The Miseries of Mephistopheles_.

"Returning to the eighteenth century, I am glad to be able to say that a brilliant reconstruction of POPE'S _Dunciad_ is promised by the SITWELL family, in which the milk-and-water school is held up to ridicule, with TENNYSON in the place of dishonour formerly occupied by THEOBALD. With a magnanimity that cannot be too highly commended, the staff of _The Times_ has undertaken to adapt another forgotten work under the title of _Grey's Eulogy_, with special reference to the work of the League of Nations.

"I confess to feeling rather doubtful as to the possibility of reviving any interest in the works of SCOTT, DICKENS and THACKERAY. They are at once too near and too far. Still I hope to persuade Miss REBECCA WEST to try her hand at _Vanity Fair_. Then there is GEORGE ELIOT, another uncertain quantity, though perhaps something might be made of _The Mill on the Floss_ if it were renamed _Tulliver's Travels_, and given an up-to-date industrial atmosphere by Mr. ARNOLD BENNETT. I have my eye on Mr. LYTTON STRACHEY as the man who could make a fine modern version of _Tom Brown's Schooldays_. At the moment he is too busy with his _Life of Queen VICTORIA_, but I feel sure he will not lightly abandon so splendid an opportunity of unmasking the pedantry and pietism of Dr. ARNOLD and throwing the white light of truth on 'Rugby Chapel.'"

* * * * *

BIRD CALLS.