She'll step aboard a Highgate train,
Then check and double back again,
And ask a dislocated queue
If she is right for Waterloo.
The liftmen, who, you recollect,
Spoke of Adolphus with respect,
Are pessimistic, even for them,
About the fate of Mrs. M.
Where Gertrude Minns will go when she
Departs this life is not for me,
Or you, or liftmen, to decree.
And, any way, we needn't fret;
She shows no sign of dying yet.
* * * * *
[Illustration: FIRST AID.
_Examiner._ "WHAT MEASURES WOULD YOU TAKE IF YOU HAD TO TREAT A CASE OF
SUNSTROKE?"
_Boy Scout_ (_who has negotiated fairly successfully a fractured jaw,
broken forearm and severed femoral artery_). "I WOULD DRAG HIM INTO THE
SHADE, STRIP HIM TO THE WAIST, POUR COLD WATER ON HIM AND PUT HIM INTO
ISOLATION IF THERE WAS ANY ICE."]
* * * * *
THE END OF THE SEASON.
The letters of the alphabet were talking.
"It's been a wonderful season," said S. "I 'm very proud of it."
"Yes," said C; "I don't suppose so much interest was ever taken in cricket
before. The number of people able to spend time at a match has been the
greatest ever known."
L agreed. "Even on the middle days of the week," he said, "Lord's has been
packed."
"Lord's, forsooth!" O struck in. "Lord's has been empty compared with the
Oval. The Ovalites have lost no opportunity of watching their heroes.
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