She lifted her night-dress over her head and for a moment caught a glimpse of her nakedness in the tarnished looking-glass—plumply rounded thighs and knees, the dimple in her stomach.

As for no lo'ein' him, mither—me that canna luik at a blin' kittlin' ohn lo'ed it!—lo, mither! God made me sae, and didna mean me no' to lo' An'rew! As for not loving him, mother—me that cannot look at a blind kittling without loved it!—lo, mother! God made me so, and didn't mean me not to love Andrew!

This cutting from an East African newspaper caught our eye last month: The up mail train from Mombasa was held up for an hour at Kibwezi by an angry rhino on Monday night.

• A Charter of Raff Godeknave I‐made to Geffrey Sawser for a mese with his partynentis, & cetera.