Excerpt
The Admiralty has decided that, in the place of the grand manœuvres this year, there shall be a surprise mobilisation. Last year's manœuvres were, we believe, something of a fiasco, but to ensure the success of the surprise mobilisation five months' previous notice is given.
"Every man," says the Bishop of London, "must be his own Columbus and find the continent of truth." This is the first time that we had heard America called the continent of truth, and one wonders where the present fashion of flattery is going to end.
We read that a Russian writer named Lunatcharsky has been expelled from Germany. Is it possible that he is a relative of Mr. Max Beerbohm's friend Kolniyatchi?
At the Grand Military Meeting at Sandown Park, two young millionaires figured as amateur jockeys. We understand now the meaning of the expression "putting money on a horse."
"Futurist frocks," we are told, were a feature of the Chelsea Arts Club ball. Just as in these days "Fancy Dress" often seems to mean that the dress is left to the fancy, Futurist frocks, we presume, are frocks that may appear in the future.
An American journalist has been pointing out how London lags behind other great cities in the matter of shop-window dressing. There would seem to be no limit to our decadence. Even our shop-windows are inadequately clothed.
A meeting has been held at Kingston to consider the possibility of providing "some counter attraction" for the young people who frequent the streets on Sunday evenings. Seeing that most of them are at the counter during the week—you catch the idea?
"Monkey nuts are dangerous," said Dr. Round at an inquest last week. Judging by the mild-looking specimens one sees walking about in the streets appearances are certainly deceptive.
A contemporary, by the way, propounds the question: Why does the "nut" always wear his headgear on the back of his head? This custom is certainly queer, for, if he really cared about his personal appearance, he would wear the hat over his face.
We regret to learn that an attempt to teach a modern Office Boy manners has failed. A friend of ours met his Office Boy in the street, and the lad merely nodded to him. To shame him the Master raised his hat with mock solemnity, at which the lad said, "That's all right, but you needn't do it."
The fashion, which originated on the Continent, of having the face and neck painted with miniature works of art is reported to be spreading to London. And the practical Americans are said to be considering a further development in the form of advertisements on the face by means of neat inscriptions, such as "Complexion by Rouge et Cie," "Teeth by Max Gumberg," and "Dimples excavated by the American Face Mining Co."
"England," says General Carranza, "is the world's bully." The General must please have patience with us, for there are signs that we are improving. In the same issue of the evening paper which reported this dictum of his the following announcement appeared under the heading "Latest News":—"There were no bullion operations reported at the Bank of England to-day."
BYLES FOR THE BILL.
[In a letter addressed to The Times, headed "Pass the Bill and Take the Consequences," Sir William Byles makes the statement:—"I for one will take the risk without hesitation."]
Darkling I sing....