in the third year of the war. It would be better, I think, if the ALL-HIGHEST did not always speak so much and tried honestly to bring us a good solid peace.
Schultze (_with a deep sigh_). Peace? I do not think we shall ever have peace again. And the winning of victories seems to push it always further away from us. At that rate what is the use of victories?
_Müller._ Then you don't believe that the U-boats can starve England into surrender?
_Schultze._ Certainly I don't. Do you know anyone that does believe in that fairy story? All that the U-boats have really effected up to the present has been to bring in America on the side of our enemies.
_Müller._ That doesn't matter. The Americans have no army.
_Schultze._ Wasn't that what we said about the English? You yourself said it as loudly as anyone else at the beginning.
_Müller._ The fact is this War has gone on too long. A war for six weeks, that one can endure; but when it goes on for years--
_Schultze._ Yes, that is not so pleasant, though the KAISER is always talking about hacking through and having an iron fist and being a wall of steel and other things of that sort.
_Müller._ Oh, he! I'm tired to death of his speeches and his prancing about. Again I say I don't care who hears me. We have done enough for glory; isn't there something we can do for peace?
_Schultze._ No, nothing--and you know it. It is more likely we shall end in prison if we talk like this.
* * * * *
[Illustration: "I WARN YOU, SIR! THE DISCOURTESY OF THIS BANK IS BEYOND ALL LIMITS. ONE WORD MORE AND I--I WITHDRAW MY OVERDRAFT."]
* * * * *
"NAVAL APPOINTMENTS.
"ROYAL NAVAL RESERVE.
"Mr. J.R. MACDONALD entered as Skipper (temp.)"--_The Times._
If this is how the Government hopes to get the Member for Leicester to Petrograd there is still the difficulty of enlisting a crew (temp.)
* * * * *
"Successful raids were carried out by us during the night east of Lagnicourt (two or three metres south of Bullecourt)."--_Evening Times and Echo._
For the sake of precision we could have wished that the measurement had been worked out to inches.
* * * * *
"Thousands on foot and in every kind of vehicle visited the grisly relic. A Sunday school teacher marched the girls of her class to the place. Some 80ft. of her nose-end is stuck aslant in the air."--_Daily Mail._
Not every woman is so well-equipped for showing contempt of the enemy.
* * * * *
"Wanted, Coachman-Chauffeur, 'Over-land' Car (Protestant), over military age."--_Londonderry Sentinel._
Whatever its religion a car of this age must be almost past praying for.
* * * * *
"The sort of women who literally make ducks and drakes of their duty as the family administrator."--_Spectator._
Having regard to the high price of poultry might not the new Food-Controller get these women to explain how they do it?
* * * * *
THE BUFFER'S VINDICATION.
I haven't fought, I haven't dug, I've worn no special caps, Too little has my country, sure, had from me; But I've never talked of "strafe-ing" anyone for any lapse, And I've never called a fighting man a "Tommy."
* * * * *
[Illustration: Old Soldier (_trying to "swing the lead"_). "WELL, SIR, I CAN'T NEITHER EAT, SLEEP NOR DRINK, SIR."
_M.O._ (_in a spasm of enthusiasm_). "MY GOOD MAN! THE ARMY WANTS A BATTALION LIKE YOU!"]
* * * * *
THE WATCH DOGS.
LXII.
MY DEAR CHARLES,--I've become so artful these days in disguising identities under assumed names that I'm hanged if I can remember myself which of my people is which. Still I daresay your own memory isn't too good, so we'll call him Ross this time, and trust to luck that that is what we called him last time. He is that one of my friends and fellow sinners who was plugging along nicely at the Bar in 1914, and was just about to take silk, when he changed his mind, came to France and got mixed up in what he calls "this vulgar brawl on the Continent." After nearly three years of systematic warfare in the second line he has at last achieved the rank of full lieutenant, which is not so bad for a growing lad of forty-five; and is running one of those complicated but fascinating side-shows which, to oblige Their Exigencies, we have to label Queer Trades, and leave at that.
Whether his department is or is not making history it is certainly one which calls for a vast amount of special knowledge in its personnel. Ross, having been at the Bar, knows nothing and knows that he knows nothing, but is able to pretend to know just enough to keep his end up with Thos. J. Brown, who, disguised as a corporal, really runs the business. "Our Mr. Brown,"
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