--_Daily Mail._
At the critical moment his knowledge of German seems to have failed him.
* * * * *
From the report of the Manchester Medical Officer of Health:--
"An important step forward was taken in 1909, when an Order of the
Local Government Board made Tuberculosis of the Lungs obligatory on
the Medical Officers of the Poor Law Service; in 1911 a second Order
extended the obligation to other Institutions."
So far, luckily, the Order has not been extended to journalists.
Regarding it, however, from the standpoint of the onlooker, we think
that the L. G. B. has gone a little beyond its powers.
* * * * *
Illustration: WHY HAVE WE NO SUPERMEN LIKE THE GERMANS?
HOW THEY MIGHT BRIGHTEN REGENT STREET.
HOW THEY MIGHT WAKE UP OUR RESTAURANTS.
AND HONOUR US WITH THEIR GALLANTRY.
AND, BEST OF ALL, HOW AMUSING TO SEE THEM MEET A SUPER-SUPERMAN.
* * * * *
Illustration: FACTS FROM THE FRONT.
STORM OF RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION AT THE ENEMY'S HEADQUARTERS ON THEIR
BEING SHOWN A "BARBAROUS AND DISGUSTING ENGINE OF WAR" IN USE BY THE
ALLIES. [_The Germans have taken a strong objection to the French 75 m/m
gun._]
* * * * *
THE GREAT SHOCK.
(_Or a tragic result of Armageddon as gleaned from the Evening Press._)
No more the town discusses
The Halls and what will win;
Now stifled are the wags' tones
On Piccadilly's flagstones,
And half the motor-buses
Have started for Berlin.
New eyes to war adapting
We stare at the Gazette;
Yon eager-faced civilian,
When posters flaunt vermilion
And boys say "Paper, capting,"
Replies "Not _captain_--yet."
"Remains," I asked, "no station
Of piping peace and sport?
Oh yes. Though kings may tumble,
No howitzers can rumble,
No sounds but cachinnation
Can boom from DARLING'S Court.
"That garden of the Graces
Can hear no cannon roar;
From that dear island valley
No bruit of arms can sally.
But men must burst their braces
With laughter as of yore.
"While dogs of war are snarling
His wit shall sweep away
Bellona's ominous vapour;"
Therefore I bought a paper
To see what Justice DARLING
Happened to have to say.
In vain his humour sortied,
In vain with spurts of glee
Like field-guns on
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