Sir,—I have reaped a whirlwind. But, Nga Nath Fhacell, your whirlwind is all wind; your letter is truly "Fhacile."

My activities, kind sir, are not restricted to those of the sideline variety. I helped to sell the pitiful thing. Did You? Regarding your doubtful remarks about Extrav, this year's show returned £35 less than last year—a direct result of year's standard.

You appear to think that I insist on smut as being the backbone of Cappicade. Read my last sentence again; it's better to have a backbone, whether it be shady humour or good clean jokes.

Did you, sir, rush along and offer your services to Editor Cotton and his oh so few assistants? I consider anyway that there were ample heads to knock together—my remark concerning the few were directed at the burden D. Patterson had to carry. And, sir, I cannot draw. (Opening for a cheap comment, NNF).

Your last paragraph removes the right of the critic (another opening) to criticise. Which, when I re-read your letter isn't a bad idea.