And regained the fair name they have lost.

We believe that the allies now fighting,
And lavishing billions untold,
Will have found, in the wrong that needs righting,
A service far better than gold;
That in bearing the load of another,
In heeding the cry of the pained,
That in staying the feet of a brother,
Fresh strength for themselves will have gained.

And some lands that now cravenly study
The getting of guerdons and gain,
May have found their gold blasted and bloody,
And tarnished by tears for the slain;
And because they dishonoured their stations
Were weak when they should have been strong,
May be treated with scorn by the nations,
A byword and hissing among.

So the scribe will set down in his pages
The story the centuries tell,
That, for sin, death is still the true wages,
And broad the road leading to hell.

GERMAN SECURITIES FALL

The British guns have spoken
And Bill may lose his crown,
The German line is broken,
And saur-kraut is down.

The gallant French are storming
The Huns with iron hail;
They've given Fritz a warning,
And limburger is stale.

The Russ is westward pushing,
Herding the Huns like sheep,
Thus ends the big four flushing,
And liverwurst is cheap.

King Victor's brave Italians
Are driving back pell-mell
The Austrian battalions
And weiners will not sell.

The Belgians, too, are holding
Their end up with the rest,
They hear the Teutons scolding,
Bologna's past its best.

Roumanians, and others,
Who now are standing pat
Will call the allies brothers
When lager beer goes flat.

TROUBLE IN THE TRENCHES

The true story of the difficulty on the Russian front.

September, 1917

When Slav and Russ had raised a fuss,
And sent their Czar a-kiting,
Said Givinski to Blatherski,
"We've done enough of fighting."

"I've got a cough," wheezed Killmanoff,
"From working in the trenches,
I'd rather fight a doggoned sight,
Than put up with the stenches.

I want to quit and take a sit
In some place clean and brighter,
Let those who like come down the pike
To strafe the German blighter."

"I've got the itch," growled Dirtovitch,
"Bog spavin and lumbago."
"I'm nev