An epidemic of measles is reported in the North. It seems that in these days of strikes people are either coming out in sympathy or in spots.
The secret of industrial peace, says a sporting paper, is more entertainment for the masses. We have often wondered what our workers do to while away the time between strikes.
"The cost of living for working-class families," says Mr. C.A. McCurdy, the Food Controller, "will probably increase by 9s. 6d. a week at Christmas." That is, of course, if Christmas ever comes.
We understand that Dean Inge has been invited to meet the Food Controller, in order to defend his title.
"Nobody wants a strike," says Mr. Brace, M.P. We can only suppose therefore that they must be doing it for the films.
An American artist who wanted to paint a storm at sea is reported to have been lashed to a mast for four hours. We understand that he eventually broke away and did it after all.
"What is England's finance coming to?" asks a City editor in a contemporary. We can only say it isn't coming to us.
In Petrograd the fare for half-an-hour's cab ride is equal to two hundred pounds in English money at the old rate of exchange. Fortunately in London one could spend the best part of a day in a taxi-cab for that amount.
"Before washing a flannel suit," says a home journal, "shake it and beat it severely with a stick." Before doing this, however, it would be just as well to make sure that the whole of the husband has been removed.
A lion-tamer advertises in a contemporary for a situation. It is reported that Mr. Smillie contemplates engaging him for Sir Robert Horne.
Whatever else happens, somebody says, the public must hang together. But what does he think we do in a Tube?
"Primroses have been gathered at Welwyn," says The Evening News. As even this seems to have failed we think it is time to drop these attempts to draw the Poet Laureate.
Glasgow licensees are being accused of giving short whisky measure. It is even said that in some extreme cases they paint the whisky on the glass with a camel-hair brush.
Mice, says Mrs. Greive, of Whins, hate the smell of mint. So do lambs.
"Coal strike or no coal strike," says The Daily Mail, "the Commercial Motor Exhibition at Olympia will not be postponed." This is the dogged spirit that made England what it used to be.
Orpheus of old, an American journal reminds us, could move stones with his music. We have heard piano-players who could move whole families; but this was before the house shortage.
The National Association of Dancing Masters has decided to forbid "the cockroach dive" this year. Our advice to the public in view of this decision is to go about just as if nothing serious had happened.
A large party of American University students are on a visit to Switzerland. It is satisfactory to know that the Alps are counted every morning and all Americans searched befo