It Is No More Effort For A

Cassivelaunus Had Prepared The River For Caesar, By Planting It Full Of Stakes (and Had, No Doubt, Put Up A Notice-board).

Seek Out Some Retired And Old-world Spot, Far From The Madding Crowd, And Dream Away A Sunny Week Among Its Drowsy Lanes - Some Half-forgotten Nook, Hidden Away By The Fairies, Out Of Reach Of The Noisy World - Some Quaint-perched Eyrie On The Cliffs Of Time, From Whence The Surging Waves Of The Nineteenth Century Would Sound Far-off And Faint.

Love Is Woman's Business,and In "business" We All Lay Aside Our Natural Weaknesses.

In The Future There Are Going To Be No Pretty Girls, For The Simple Reason There Will Be No Plain Girls Against Which To Contrast Them. Of Late I Have Done Some Systematic Reading Of Ladies Papers. The Plain Girl Submits To A Course Of "treatment." In Eighteen Months She Bursts Upon Society An Acknowledged Beauty.

All Is Vanity And Everybody's Vain. Women Are Terribly Vain. So Are Men - More So, If Possible.