taking part in the fray. The Boy Scouts are helping
manfully here, and at Liege the Germans, we are told, used nippers for
cutting wire entanglements.

* * * * *

The London Museum is open again. The Curator, we understand, would be
glad to add to his collection of curiosities any Londoner who is still
in favour of a small Navy.

* * * * *

"Cambridge public-houses," we read, "are to close at 9 p.m." Such dons
as are still up for the Long Vacation are said to be taking it gamely in
spite of the inconvenience of accustoming themselves to the new
regulation.

Reports still continue to come in as to the outbursts of rage which
took place in Germany when the news of our participation in the War
reached that country. Seeing that we had merely been asked to allow our
friends to be robbed and murdered, our interference is looked upon as
peculiarly gratuitous.

There would seem to be no end to the social horrors of the War. The
Teuton journal, _Manufakturist_, is now prophesying that one of its
results will be the substitution of German for French fashions.

* * * * *

According to the _Evening News_ three elephants have been requisitioned
from the Zoo at the White City by the military authorities. In Berlin,
no doubt, this will be taken to signify that our heavy cavalry mounts
are giving out.

* * * * *

A somewhat illiterate correspondent writes to say that he considers that
the French ought to have allowed the Mad Dog to retain Looneyville.

* * * * *

The German papers publish the statement that a Breslau merchant has
offered 30,000 marks to the German soldier who, weapon in hand, shall be
the first to place his feet on British soil. By a characteristic piece
of sharp practice the reward, it will be noted, is offered to the man
personally and would not be payable to his next-of-kin.

* * * * *

It is reported that the Kaiser is proceeding to East Prussia to assume
the chief command there. In Petrograd the news is only credited by
extreme optimists.

* * * * *

Mr. Lloyd George's statement that "The Prussian Junker is the road-hog
of modern Europe" has, we hear, had a curious and satisfactory sequel.
Large numbers of adepts in the art of pig-sticking are joining the
Sportsman's Battalion, w