had been charging up and down the ground in a series of
magnificent rushes, while ten thousand North of England lads roared
themselves hoarse to see such glory. Suddenly a newspaper boy, reckless
of his life, dashed on to the ground with a placard stating that a whole
regiment of British soldiers had been trapped by a German ruse and
annihilated. In an instant the game was broken up and every player and
every spectator who was of age ran like hares to the nearest recruiting
office and enrolled themselves as soldiers. They had seen in a flash
that the only chance for England to get rid of this German menace was
for every eligible man to do his share.

In another part of the paper I read of a young and powerful man in an
English village who, on being asked if he did not think that England was
in danger, replied "Yes." He was then asked if he did not think that it
was necessary to fight for her, and he replied "Yes" again. He was then
asked who in his opinion were the most suitable volunteers to come to
her aid, and he replied, "Other people." So far the story is not
appreciably different from a story that you might read anywhere. But the
version in my paper stated that he was seized by all the company present
and not only ducked in the nearest horse-pond but held under the water
for quite a long time, and then held under the water again.

And another article--a most exciting one--described the success of a
British aviator who flew over Essen and dropped five bombs on KRUPP'S
gun factory and did irreparable damage. I forget his name, but, although
he was pursued, he got clear away and returned to the Allies' lines.
There was a fellow for you!

So you see that I get some good reading out of my favourite paper. And
more is to come!

* * * * *

THE PRICE OF WAR.

Now woe is me! My treasure, my delight,
My guerdon after many toilsome days,
Shall gladden me no more. It was a sight
To bid men gape in wonderment, and praise
My patient courage that endured despite
The gibes of friends and Delia's pitying ways.
Ah, cruel fate that forced my hand to snip
Such costly growth as graced my upper lip!

Moustache most cherished! Not as other men
That let their lush growth riot as it will,
With just a formal waxing now and then,
Did I maintain it. Nay, with loving skill
And all the precious oils within the ken
Of cunning alchemists I strove until