* *

Illustration: INTELLIGENT ANTICIPATION.

_Ethel._ "NOW THAT I'VE GOT THIS NICE MAP, WILL YOU TELL ME JUST WHERE
TO PUT THE LITTLE FLAGS, DAD? I WANT TO KEEP IT RIGHT UP TO DATE."

_Dad_ (_preoccupied with his paper_). "H'M--WELL--BETTER JUST STICK 'EM
ALL IN BERLIN, AND--WAIT."

* * * * *

OUR WAR STORY.

THE DREADFUL DOOM OF BERTRAM BORSTAL.

I.

Bertram Borstal turned out his pockets and spread their contents on the
table before him. There were seven postage stamps perforated with the
initials of his late employers, one three-penny-bit in silver, twopence
in copper, and a Bank of England note for 10_s._ "Irretrievably ruined!"
he muttered with closed lips. "I will offer my services to my country. I
will enlist."

He enlisted successfully until he reached the medical examination. The
doctor thrust a shoe-horn into Bertram's mouth. "Count up to 99," he
said. "Ug--koog--hee--haw--," Bertram began.

"That'll do," remarked the doctor, closing the jaws with a snap. "Any
constitutional ailment?"

Bertram blushed heavily. "Only chronic dyspepsia," he admitted at
length. The doctor gave a long whistle. Mistaking the sound a taxicab
drew up.

"You'd better jump in," he said kindly, taking Bertram's hand and
putting it inadvertently into his own pocket. "I regret to say I cannot
pass you for the Army."

"Ploughed!" exclaimed our hero. "But if I cannot go as a soldier I will
go as a spy. Drive me to Wigson's," he called to the taxi-driver as he
leapt on to a passing bus.

Half-an-hour later Bertram, disguised in the uniform of a spy, turned up
the Strand and his coat-collar simultaneously and walked rapidly to
Charing Cross station. He just managed to scramble into the 2.19 as it
steamed from the platform at 3.7.

II.

That same evening (or the next) Bertram got out of the train at
Kartoffelnberg, hired a tandem and drove to the German lines. He went
straight to the General. "I shall be obliged if you will kindly tell me
the number and disposition of your forces, and how and when you propose
to advance."

He spoke in English, but the General--formerly Military Attache at
Appenrodt's--happily understood him.

"Certainly," he replied. "Perhaps you would care to examine this map and
plan of campaign?"

Bertram thanked him, and commenced to trace them upon his spare vest.

"Don't bother to do that," said the General. "Take this set of
duplicates. The disposit