Today's Stichomancy for Tyra Banks

and its consequences have seized upon and paralysed the mental movement of Western Europe. Before 1914 war was theoretically unpopular in every European country; we thought of it as something tragic and dreadful. Now everyone knows by experience that it is something utterly dirty and detestable. We thought it was the Nemean lion, and we have found it is the Augean stable. But being bored by war and hating war is quite unproductive /unless you are thinking about its nature and causes so thoroughly that you will presently be able to take hold of it and control it and end it./ It is no good for everyone to say unanimously, "We will have no more war," unless you have thought

Mrs. McGregor.

"One, two, three, four, five, six leetle fat rabbits!" repeated Mr. McGregor, counting on his fingers --"one, two, three--"

"Don't you be silly: what do you mean, you silly old man?"

"In the sack! one, two, three, four, five, six!" replied Mr. McGregor.

(The youngest Flopsy Bunny got upon the windowsill.)

you roun'? State parlors--Looee Cans--Looee Sez--chairs cost three thousand apiece. Tea room Maryanntnet--picture of shepherds dancing--Ruysdael--twenty-three thousan'! Ballroom--balc'ny pillars--hic--imported--special ship--sixty-eight thousan'! Ceilin' painted in Rome--whuzzat feller's name, Hamilton--Mattatoni? Macaroni? Then this place--silver bowl--Benvenuto Cellini--rummy ole Dago! An' the organ--thirty thousan' dollars, sir--starter up, Hamilton, let Mr. Rednose hear it. No--never mind--clean forgot--says he's hungry, Hamilton--less have some supper. Only--hic--don't less have it here--come up to my place, ole sport--nice an' cosy.