George W. Peck, once a Wisconsin Governor, and always a humorist when there was a reason for it, died the other day in the city which he helped to make famous. He was known as a "funny man" long before he was suspected of having the opposite trait. But when he took up lines that required serious consideration, he quit making, and just as Paul put away childish things when he became a man. The trouble with most humorists is that they won't differentiate.

It is said that English golfers have fled the links through fear of Zeppelins. If there are any Britons who are not in the trenches or in training, they will be found steady at the game. Just as many Americans would be found holding down the bleachers at a ball park while a foreign navy was shelling the city where ball was being played.

Do your Easter egg dyeing early. Stuffs are getting scarcer every second. An undressed Easter egg is not worth flinging at a barnstormer.

SEEN ON THE SIDE
A Porteut.
One woeful wound strikes terror
Into the gardener's heart;
He hopes he is in error,
And yet his fears upstart,
He feels like madly plucking
His hair in handfuls when
He hears the joyous clucking
Of neighbor's hungry hen.
He planted peas in furrows,
He planted beans in hills.
And day and night he burrows
To keep away plant ills.
Each morn plants get the ducking
Approved by those who know.  They vanish with the clucking
Of that voracious hen.
His dahlias and his roses.
His beds of mignonette. 