Volume 146 — MANES À LA MODE.
Reading edition
(A vision suggested by the inspiriting rumour that green hair is about to become fashionable.)
In Springtide when the copses stir And hawthorn buds on boughs are seen, My love shall seek the hairdresser And have her hair dyed green. Gay priestess of a Dryad cult With leaf-like locks she'll haunt the trees, Securing this superb result With Boffkin's verdigris. And feathered songsters all secure, The merle, the lark, shall come and sit Amongst her emerald chevelure And build their nests in it. But when sweet Maytime draws to close Neaera still shall mark the date; She'll steal the red fires of the rose And daub them on her pate. The ensanguined peonies shall grudge Her flaming top-knot's stolen hue (The bill shall come from Messrs. Fudge, "To tincture, Two Pound Two"). And bees and wasps to sip its bloom Shall buzz about that glorious tire And, having sipped, shall feel a gloom And painfully expire. Sad Autumn shall arrive, and still To suit the note the glades have struck, Moat sweetly shall Neaera swill Her poll with barber's muck. And now with gold and purple glow, Now russet and now rather wan, Weekly her scalp shall undergo Some transformation. Till lastly, when by chymic jolt And sheer corrosion of the thatch, What time the withering woodlands moult My love shall moult to match, And all those curls I loved to beg For keepsakes on the earth be strewed, Leaving her cranium like an egg Incomparably nude. What matter? She can start again And ape the season's altering rigs More simply, having lost her mane, With repertoires of wigs.
Evoe.
A Gold Coast Nut.
(Copy of Letter addressed to a London Tailor.)
"Dear Sir—I beg to say these words to you. I deem you will not have any vexation about my requirement. You may be pleased for my saying, your name having recommened to me by a certain friend of mine. He knows very well, else he could not give your name to me. Because no one knows you in this Gold Coast, with exception of him. That you are the best tailor at city called London. I desiderate to deal with in England. On the receipt of this note, genial forward me your samples by returning mail together with price list. I will be pleased to open a great business with you.... I will gladly submit your good reply by my great opportunities, hoping you will not fail. Yours faithfully ——"
"To name a girl after a battle or other public event," says The Daily News, "is positively wicked, as it gives away her age. The numerous 'Almas' christened during the Crimean War had good reason to know this; so have the 'Jubilees' and the 'Trafalgars.'" Quite so. We know a dear lady who might easily pass for twenty if her parents had not named her "Ramillies."
THE GIFT HORSE.
Mr. Asquith. "THERE YOU ARE, SIR; WARRANTED QUIET TO RIDE OR DRIVE. HE'S BY 'CONVERSATIONS' OUT OF 'PARLIAMENT,' AND I'VE CALLED HIM 'THE LIMIT.'"
Mr. Bonar Law. "MANY THANKS, BUT I DON'T SEEM TO CARE MUCH FOR HIS TEETH."
QUESTION TIME.
Effie. "Mummy, when you and Daddy was engaged did you engage him or did he engage you?