HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1915-9-16, Page 3S°Wfeiite3 ;bltilk�m*b�hl'
Thirst !
o:81'ai'dztl3lt°M?1TuiI.
A thing with half a tail, chips of
ears, fur in patches, mange in the
Intervale, a sharklike receding jaW,
and yellow, wedge-shapedteeth, could
not by any standard be called beanti-
fuI, In ,the moonlight he was abso-
lutely diabolical,
When you have lived for one week
under the artillery fire of the world's
biggest armies, even a beautiful thing
may be excused for not looking lovely,
This thing, however, had never been
pretty, not even as a baby, when most
beasts are good to look upon.
It was an old, a devilish, bunk rat,
and an enormous buck rat at that.
Slowly he crossed the road, and ex-
plored the hedge on the far side, He
was looking for water, that rat, for
be it known to you that water is the
rat's- ever -pressing problem. They
must drink often. Within twenty-four
hours they die else.
Nerves!
An owl came snoring and sighing
through the night, and the rat "froze"
stiller than the over -turned gun -car-
riage caught up in the hedge over his
dread. For a moment he was con -
Selene of huge, round, shining eyes
glaring in upon him; but he kept: his
head,and the owl, not seeing the mo-
tionless form, slid away down the
hedge.
Suddenly, at the cross -hedge, the
rat started and bolted for a hole, but
stopped half -way, stared, and stepped
out. It was only the ghostly shimmer
of the grave, stones that had frighten-
ed him,
There was a lean dog among the
mounds at business with something,
but it ran away whimpering at his
rustle; such is the effect of continu-
ous heavy cannonading on the highly -
strung canine temperament:
There was also something that
gleamed in the church porch and the
moonlight, but it was only a bayonet
or a Mauser rifle, and close by a
Mouse dashed out of an abandoned
helmet with a nerve -trying rush at his
approach. " A piece of .black bread lay
beside the helmet, but, it was already
possessed by beetles, and the big rat
passed on into the beautiful little old
church. He did not stop to consider
why the door was open to the placid,
unpitying moon, and the cold mist of
the autumn night.
The Open Church.
Water! Waterl Water! He must
find water, or die, and, indeed, even
es he crossed the silent light in the
porch, he reeled in his stride like a
drunken beast..
Ten minutes later we discover him
high up in the church tower, following
always the scent of maxis footsteps,
motionless and awed, for the moment,
by the echoing ticking of the . big
clock, and the voices that lived in the
works.
Then he got in on his fine work with
nose and whiskers—they were almost
as good as a divining-rod—and in
quick succession discovered two closed
kegs of water, and one open. He also
discovered a man—dressed like a
shepherd, he was—who snored, and,
therefore, as the rat knew well
enough, was of no account.
Five minutes later, shaking the sit-
' vered drops from his whiskers, we
find our rat once mote revived, and
leaving the church by the way he had
Come. Hetarriednot. Neither look-
ed he to the right nor to the left, but
rustled off into the fields.
In the hour before dawn, when the
moon had sat downon the top of a
hill like a gigantic, silver, upturned
saucer, and everything, even the dis-
tant German guns, was as still as
death, the old rat came back.
A Living Stream.
And he was not alone,, that rat.
There were others with him. Not one,
or two, or half a dozen merely, but-
well, suddenly, in that •instant, the
whole churchyard seemed literally- td
get up'.and crawl. It was—one can-
not describe' it—the strange whisper
of thousands of small feet. Only, in
this,case, the horror was increased by
the eyes—hundreds upon hundreds of
tiny, glinting, cruel eyes, in pairs,
seen and gone and seen again.
Then the old rat uttered a noise.
One cannot well graceitby any other
name --a wicked, low, jarring gibber.
Only for a moment did ,he speak.
Then, with ungainly hops, vanished
into the church, and—oh, hororsl—it
was as if a grey -brown stream surged
across the path and on into the church
at his heels. "
That stream, however, was no wa-
ter. It was alive. It was rats, to be
exact; it was what is called a "flit-
ting" of rats, which is a migration on
masse of the long-tailed ones— hun-
dreds upon hundreds of rats of every
size and age and degree of abomie
liableness.
, The sounds of them as they passed
through the cave -like, dark, and echo-
ing silence of the church were enough
ho make your hair creep all over your
ead, and the death -squeals of the
mouse, caught, cornered, slain, and
consumed, all in .a breath, made it
worse.
The eyes of the whiskered ones
fhone here, too, in even more ghostly
ashion, and the sound of them, pour-
ing upwards into the church tower,
was like the wind blowing upon dry,
dead leaves.
Awakened by Rats.
Straight to the kegs of water
streamed the rats, guided by the grim
old buck -rat, who was also their
leader and chieftain, No notice of
•
the snoring ehephord tools they, nei-
ther deviated they to the right or left,
It was water they had eons for; wa-
ter they must have, or perish,
I{ow long they were at the kegs no
man knows, not long certainly; but
when they left them, to explore the
place, not a single drop of water re-
mained.
A lark had just started to sing out-
side when, without warning,' the sleep,;
ing shepherd started up.
There was blood on the man's
throat, and blood on his hands, and on
his face, too, were crimson spits; and
even ae he 'yelldd, the whole floor of
the place about him seemed to get up
acrd scamper away. And, in a breath,
they were gone, those rats—stream-
ing over the churchyard among the
gravestones and, the mystery of be-
yond.
That morning the British troops
surrounded the church, and began to
dig trenches, The road without rang
with the ordered tread of disciplined
British ,feet, and the air near by vi-
brated with the thudding 'stutter of
British artillery.
And so it went on all that day and
the next.
On the last day the officers of the
German artillery on .the far hills,
bringing their big guise into action,
stared long and hard through their
field -glasses at the clock on,the
church tower, waiting for the hnds'
to move round and point to the post-
tions
osi tions of the hidden British guns, wait-
ed, too, as their guns fired their first
rounds, to see the hands of the clock
ITALIAN SOLDIERS RECEIVING FOOD RATIONS
•
.Y.
D,roO:+Waoo r 4 die
move round to show them if their
shells were falling wide or correctly.
Confound that shepherds Had he
foolishly got himself caught, or was
he asleep, or had he played them
false, or what?
They knew he had had enough food
and water when he had hid himself up
there.
But the hands of the clock never
moved, and indeed the clock had
stopped. No sign came from the
church tower, and, one by one the hid-
den British guns began to put the big,
blind German pieces out of, action.
The shepherd, caught like a rat in
a trap in his own hiding -place, sur-
rounded and helpless, was lying dead
in the church tower, killed by want of
water and blood -poisoning.— London
Answers.
'1
CHEERY WORDS AND WISE.
Let discord die.—Mr. Winston
Churchill.
We are certain to get to Constan-
tinople.—Sir
onstan-tinople: Sir Edwin Pears.
It is a great deal easier to criticize
at home than to fight in the trenches.
—Sir John Simon.
'Those whom war has joined to-
gether peace must not be allowed to
put asunder.—Lord Curzon.
Let each man of us see that we
spare nothing, shirk nothing, shrink
from nothing.—Lord Kitchener.
Every man who fights in our cause
is a hero and every man who dies
in it is a martyr.—The Bishop of Lon-
don.
If wisdom does not come soon to
Europeit will go straight to bank-
ruptcy in a comparatively short time.
—Lord Loreburn.
There is a wrong kind of optimism,
the kind in which a man thinks that
the thing will come right without his
doing it.—Mr. McKinnon Wood.
France stands erect with an organ-
ized,
rganized, ardent, and redoubtable army,
sure of conquering with her indom-
itable allies.—M. Vivian, the French
Premier.
There are men who would find
fault with the Archangel Gabriel if
hecame down here and sought to ad-
minister the affairs of our country.—
Mr. Long.
Five great powers are allied to-
gether against Germany—ourselves,.
France, Russia, Italy, and that grand
ally, Time,—Mr. Winston Churchill.
The great curse of humanity for
,the. past 40 years has been the yearly
addition of a million young savages
to the German population.—Sir Jas.
Barr.
THE PRICE BELGIANS PAID.
Taxes Total $40,000,000 and Damage
Is Tremendous.
in the first three months of the
war the damage done amounted to
£212,000,000. This was up to the end
of October, and by December at least
another million pounds worth of pro-
perty had been destroyed. The Ger-
mans timed their invasion of Bel-
gium for the harvest period, and were
thus able to rob the Belgians of 33,-
000,000 worth of food. In addition,
they have levied taxes amounting al-
together to £8,000,000, while the cost
in human life is estimated et 515,000,-
000. Altogether the cost of the war
to Belgium for the first five months
was 5338,000,000. What is more ter-
rible is that Germany has seized the
whole of the Belgian food supply, and
it is reckoned that in Belgium there
will be over 2,000,000 destitute per-
sons, and the remaining 5,500,000 will
be coming to the end of their re
sonrcee.
As showing the determination of
the Germans to do everything they
possibly can to bring the direst mis-
ery to the people of the country they
so shamefully invaded, it might be
mentioned that, according to Sir Ed-
ward Grey, the German military au-
thorities actually stole the food and
money sent by philanthropists in
America, the colonies, . and British
Isles for the relief •of starving Bel-
gians.
BITTER TROUBLE
AND UNHAPPINESS
PATHETIC PEN -PICTURE DRAWN
FROM REAL LIFE.
One of the Many Touching Incidents
of the Present Great •
War.
The neighbors spoke of her as
"Poor Miss Smith"; but all their little
ones called her "Auntie," and looked
forward with glee to the jolly tea-
parties she gave them in her little
ivy -clad cottage. And they dreamt
at nights of that big, round glass jar,
standing on her mantel -shelf, that
held so many sweeties, says London
Answers.
"Auntie" -she, too, had her dreams
at night time; and in her dreams she
had heard anew their childish patter.
Then for her their gleeful laughter
sounded over again; she felt their
little arms twine round her neck.
Often, when "Auntie" awoke, she
would wonder at her tear -damp pil-
low.
"Poor Miss Smith"—so the vil-
lagers called her; not that they
thought that she was really poor, you
know—it was generally understood
among them that she had "a nice little
income"—but rather because of her
sadness, her loneliness. No one ever
journeyed to the village to see her;
never did old Gaff, the postman, have
need to hammer on her door. The vil-
lage folk guessed that she had known
bitter trouble and unhappiness.
"A terr'ble disappointment, she've
had," said one. "The black ox have
trod on her tail, for sure," voiced an-
other, and so they talked and conjec-
tured, among themselves.
Unspoken Sorrow.
But the little, kindly gentlewoman,
with the large, sad, blue eyes, with
the slow and sweet smile and quiet
voice, did not complain to anybody.
She made no mention of any sorrow;
told not a soul of her troubles. Yet
pain; and tragedy were often'in those
sad, blue eyes.
It was generally accepted by the
,gossips that her age was "somewhere
about forty-five, if a day." As a
matter of fact, she was almost ten
years younger, even though her hair
was beginning to silver far sooner
than it should have done.
Not long after the outbreak of war,
it was noticed by one or two obser-
vant folk that "Poor Miss Smith"
seemed a little happier, brighter; that
she smiled oftener. Also, the fact
that she spent quite a long time on
several occasions in the shop of Mr.
Simpson—"Hosier, Outfitter, and
Gents' Tailor"—was commented upon.
Mr. Simpson was asked to explain,
and was understood to say that he
could not see what business it was of
anybody's if a lady customer chose to
buy two paps of socks, three pairs of
gloves, and two mufflers—yes, and
woolly things, and a gents' knitted
vest. (meaning waistcoat), "for a
gent. as was presoomably at the
Front," and he wanted to know "what
the village was a -coming to with its
inquisitiveness."
And in the little, cosy front -parlor
of the ivy -clad cottage "Poor Miss
Smith" sat writing a letter, with a
pen that trembled just ever so slight-
ly. Round her lips was that sad,
sweet smile; in her eyes bright tear-
drops glistened.
Her Dream -Happiness.
Before her, on the table, were the
socks and gloves and mufflers and
woolly things, and the knitted vest.
It was a very long, letter that she was
writing. Sheets and sheets of white
paper scented with violets did she
cover with small, neat writing before
she sealed thein all up in the covering
envelope.
Next, she turned to the socks and
gloves and mufflers and woolly
thins, and the knitted vest. The let-
ter fitted just nicely into the biggest
side -pocket of the knitted vest. A
big packet of cigarettes she took from
the mantelshelf, and then a big packet
of tobacco.These she tucked inside.
"Poor Miss Smith" had never be-
fore tied and sealed such a large par-
cel, and she did it so very carefully,
too. But at last it was done. Then,
her hands folded before her, she stood
and looked at it, Her thoughts were
far away; a prayer was in her heart.
That night, in her dreams, "Poor
Miss Smith" was walking proudly by
the side of a big, strong man, whose
arm she held. He had curly hair that
was crisp and brown, and clear, brave
eyes. He spoke to her very gently,
calling her his sweetheart, and he
kissed her.
Then she heard again the joyous
voices of her little dream -children,
and felt their soft embraces. They
called her "Mother" in her dream.
It was old Gaff, the postman, who
first told about the letter he had de-
livered that very same morning at
ivy -clad cottage.
"The first letter she've had to my
sartin knowledge," quoth he. "Right
from the Front, it were, by the marks
on't."
"He Died Gallantly."
Then he explained the marks, and
the village discussed and wondered.
Old Gaff took eight more letters to
the ivy -clad cottage.
Then, one day came another letter.
But this was a different letter. Its
envelope was' written by another
hand. Old. Gaff—well, his reputation
as an interesting personage went up
with a leap when he was able to as-
sert, solemnly, and on his oath= if need
be, "Poor Miss Smith" she went that
white -like when she see it, tilt she
did.
"Poor Miss Smith." Not a soul
saw her about all that day. The
blinds were drawn down over the tiny
windows of the ivy -clad cottage.
The next morning young Toni, the
boy from the Meadow Farm, found
that the can of milk that he had left
the day before had not been taken in.
There it was, still on the cobbled walk
by the side of the doorway. ,
Young Toni thought it, strange, and
mentioned it to several folk. By din-
ner -time the news had, per old Gaff,
got to the police -station.
The letter—the one in the strange
handwriting, the last one—was in her
hand when they found her. The doc-
tor read it reverently.
"Dear Madam, T' regret very much
to have to inform you that Private
— is gone. He died gallantly in an
assault on the German trenches. He
met his end like a hero. I am writing
to you because yours are the only
letters we found among his things."
"Poor Miss Smith"—she is with the
big, strong man with the clear, brave
eyes. Maybe he is calling her "sweet-
heart" in that kindly voice of his, and
perhaps he is kissing her.
GERMAN NERVOUSNESS.
The Fortune of War Has Gone
Against Their Arms.
While a feeling of confidence is
steadily growing amongst the Allies
signs of depression and nervousness
are becoming increasingly noticeable
among their opponents. The most
striking of these indications is afford-
ed in a speech the Kaiser is reported
to have delivered when he addressed
a large number of Landsturmers at
Frankfurt as they were ` leaving for
the front. The Emperor, who was de-
scribed as looking aged, nervous and
grey, is reported to have said: "We
have staked all. If the etienty is vic-
torious Germany will no longer exist.
Perhaps the war was a mistake.on our
part, but the present is not the mo-
ment to speak of it. We must save
our country." Prisoners, recen 1y
taken both in France and in Russia,
frankly admit that the fortune of
war has gone against their arnis, and
state that it may be necessary to
leave Austria to the fate of a hope-
lessly defeated Pot er, and to concen-
trate all the energros of the German
people on the maintofianco of the ter-
ritorial integrity of the ];moire.
FULL VALUE FRUIT.
Co-operation Asked From the Grower
to the Consumer.
The war is developing in many peo-
ple a higher ideal of citizenship—a
clearer conception of the fair -play
that should prevail in all the business
of the country.' Even our government
is preaching honesty, thrift and econ-
omy—work that was usually left to
the pulpits. In addition to this busi-
ness organizations are adopting a
more public-spirited attitude and giv-
ing more attention to the service they
should render for the money they re-
ceive, says Peter McArthur.
A notable example of this new
spirit is being shown in the fruit in-
dustry of the country,which has not
reached so large a proportion. The
organizations having charge of the
marketing of tender fruits (berries,
currants, plums, peaches, etc.), are
particularly anxious to place the work
of marketing and distribution on a
plane of patriotic public service. It
is their aim to distribute their pro-
ducts so widely that there will be no
waste and at the same time to place
them on the market in such a way
that the consumer shall have full
value for their money. During the
past few months I have had an oppor-
tunity of investigating the business of
marketing plums and peaches. I have
interviewed growers, dealers and re-
tailers and have no hesitation in say-
ing that except in a few centres where
there are local ordnances that inter-
fere with the business of marketing
outside products it should be possible
for consumers to get better service
than they have ever had in the past.
They should get good sound peaches
and plums at a fair price and in or-
der that they may be able to do so I
am going to make then an unusual of-
fer.
If you feel that you are being over-
charged for peaches, plums or tender
fruits kindly send the facts to me,
stating price paid and date of making
the purchase and the district from
which fruit was secured. This will
enable Wipe to learn exactly whatthe
price of fruit should have been where
you bought at that particular time. If
you have been overcharged I shall
write and let you know so that we may
expose everyone who is trying to
make undue profits in thy, year when
every man should be doing his part
for the good of his stricken country.
The campaign to sell the fruits is
the first big selling campaign to be
organized within the empire since the
outbreak of the war and it is desired
to handle the business in such a way
as to get an example to the rest of
the empire. To this end everyone is
asked to. co-operate, from the grower
to the consumer. The consumer in
particular is requested to report all
instances .of overcharging so that the
persons guilty of it may be exposed to
public censure. Complaints will be in-
vestigated by Peter McArthur, Appin,
P.O., Ont.
Let us all get together and see that
the"fruit crop is marketed this season
in a manner worthy of patriotic citi-
zens of the empire who wish to avoid
waste and to see that everyone gets
full value for his money.
Taking No Risks.
Sandy had just placed the diamond
ring on the finger of sweetheart num-
ber two. His first love had jilted him
and, worse still, had refused to send
back his ring. So he did not mean to
be out of pocket in this hia second
venture if the worst should happen
again. "Noo," he said, "wid ye min'
gfefn' me a receipt promisin' to re-
turn ma ring gin ye should cheenge
yer mind aboot maiirying me?"
Profile likenesses are due to the
vanity of a Roman Emperor who had
but one eye,
A" impleton" was once the honored
term foee a straightforward man, can-
dia, end "simple."
Some men would rather hang
around some one who is somebody
than: hustle around themselves and
try to be somebody,
READINESS OF THE
GRAND FLEET
THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORE
YXSI'I'S THE SAILOR
He Was Muck Impressed By the All.
Pervading Sense of Readiness
Shown.
Sailor, what of the debt we owe you?
Day and night is the peril more?
Who, so dull that he fails to know you,
• Sleepless guard of our island shore?
Safe the corn to the farmyard taken,
Grain ships safe upon all the seas—
Homes in peace and a faith unshaken,
Sailor, what do we owe for these?
With this quotation the Archbishop
of York, Dr. Cosmo Gordon Lang, be-
gins an eloquent description of his re-
mit visit of ten days to the Grand
Fleet in the London Times.
The arrangements for the visit
were made by the Commander -in -
Chief and the admiral's commanding
the other bases, whose guest I was.
They were models of careful organi-
zation. It prayed to be possible to
arrange great voluntary services on
two Sunday afternoons and on a
week -day morning.
Moving Experience.
At the first there were the Com-
mander -in -Chief and his staff, the
other admirals, and nearly 5,000 offi-
cers and men. The ships of the fleet
were lying around, looming out of the
dull grey mist—it was a most mov-
ing experience to commit that distant
fleet to the care and blessing of God.
The scene of the second, bathed irr
sunshine, where about 3,000 officers
and men were grouped, was very dif-
ferent.
The third service, if less romantic
in its setting than the first, was as
a spectacle, the most impressive of
the three—indeed, I have never seen
anything like it. Nearly 9,000 officers
and men were gathered in a vast dry
dock. I shall never forget that sea of
upturned faces, frank and bronzed.
40 Addresses in Ten Days.
There were four Confirmations ser-
vices—two of them in the flagships of
the admirals in command, attended by
hundreds of men. About 180 were
confirmed—warrant and petty' offi-
cers, artificers, men and boys, and one derness of snow from Moscow.
of two midshipmen. One afternoon, At every stage of that journey of
wet and squally, I consecrated a field 1 horror bands of these fierce, swift -
moving horsemen swooped down like
vultures on the broken ranks of the
Frenchmen, slaying them in hundreds,
THE DEMON -RIDERS
OF RUSSIAN ARMY
INSPIRES DREAD IN EVERY FOE
HE HAS MET.
A Sketch of the Slcill and I+'earless-
pees of the Czar's Cossack
Horsemen.
For many a century "Cossack" has
been a word of terror in Europe, the
symbol of all that is fierce and most
ruthless in warfare. It is e, word,.
too, of mystery as well as of romance,
for none can say with certainty where
or when it had its origin,
There aresome who say that the
Cossack is a pure-blooded Tartar by
descent; others declare that he is
wholly Russian; but it seems more
probable that he has many mixed
strains in his veins. He is Slav and
Tartar, Pole and Wallaehian, Musco-
vite and Hungarian; and a compound
of all that is most warlike in each
ancestry,
His very name,too, is variously de-
rived from such martial words as "an
armed man," and a "sabre," with
"rover" to mark the wander -lust that
is in him.
But whoever he may be, or whence
he came, we know that for nearly a
thousand years the Cossack has been
the born fighter of Europe, inspiring
dread in every foe he has met. Each
man of them all has been cradled for
battle. Bow and arrow ' and lance
have been his playthings as a boy.
He has been a skilled and fearless
rider almost before he could walk.
Saved Russia from Napoleon.
Through the centuries we eee him
always fighting; any flag was his so
long as it showed the way to battle.
And he was an equal terror to the
enemy, whether his allegiance was
given to the Kings of Poland, the
Czars of Muscovy, or the Sovereigns
of Sweden. IIe was the pet warrior
of Peter the Great; and under Cage,
erine II. he laid Prussia waste and
desolate to the very gates of Berlin,
Little more than a century ago it
was the Cossacks who saved Russia
and made the way sure for Napoleon's
downfall. There is nothing more ter-
rible in history than the merciless
havoc they wrought in Napoleon's
army on its retreat through the wil-
as a new naval cemetery. The con-
gregation was about 1,800 men from
the destroyer flotillas, who sang and
listened with a true naval indifference then vanishing, only to reappear at
to weather. . another point for more slaughter, un -
Every day there were visits to se- til their route was a trail of clead,
lected ships, to which drafts of men and of the Grand Army's 600,000 men,
from neighboring ships were sent; only 30,000 lived to see France again.
and there I spoke and gave God's TheyAre Ideal Desperadoes.
blessing to crowds of men standing on
deck or sitting among the turrets in
every variety of picturesque grouping.
Altogether, during ten days, I gave
over forty addresses.
All -Pervading Readiness.
Although the principal home of the
Cossacks is the vast tableland that
stretches between the Don and the
Volga, they are to be found scattered
everywhere where dangerous work is
to. be done.
Of the efficiency of the Fleet it is In Siberia, Central Asia, and the
not for a mere outsider to speak, but Caucasus they do sentinel work for.
even he cannot fail' to be impressed Russia, ready at any moment to en -
by the all-pervading sense of reads- force authority with their wicked-
ness. It seemed as if there was one looking lances or cruel-thonged whips.
Bearded or fierce -moustached, and
picturesquely hatted, they are ideal
At dinner or luncheon every day I desperadoes, game for any work, the
rougher the better.
met all the admirals, most of the cap- But it is as soldiers of the Czar that
tains, and many of the other officers the Cossacks are in their true element.
of the fleet. In manner, in word, in Fighting is the very breath of life to
spirit, they justified the boast of one them; with sinews of steel and mus -
of the vice-admirals—"We are all a cies of iron, they laugh at hardships
great band of brothers." which would wreck almost any other
man; and in battle they are demons
exultant.
Mounted on their small, wiry
chargers, and equipped with carbine
and lance or sword, the Cossacks are
the most skilful and dangerous' caval-
ry in the world—swooping on the
enemy
With Lightning Swiftness,
vanihiing in scattered units, and then,
How a Welshman's Fine Voice Cap- reforming and swooping again, carry-
tured the Germans. ing death wherever they ride. Like
will-o'-the-wisps, there are here,
When battle lines extend central- there, everywhere—nowhere—cutting
ously for three or four hundred miles, communications, sweeping straggling
almost anything may happen some- bodies of the enemy to death, scout -
Mg for the advance, covering, a re-
treat, and always doing marvellous
work.
soldier in Belgium: It is,down, swifter than an ava-
win their charging
It was a miserable night. A heavy j that theirhochiefever, terror lies: As they
raiin had filled the
ly out of the darkness came a voice.
It was singing a Welsh ballad called
"Hob y deri dando," and it was a fine
tenor voice. It was the cheeriest
word written on every ship, on every
part of her, on every man within her
—the word Ready.
I left the Grand Fleet sharing to
the full the admiration, affection and
confidence which every officer and
man within it feels for its Command-
er -in -Chief, Sir John Jellicoe. He em-
bodies and strengthens that comrade-
ship of single-minded service which is
the crowning honor of the Navy.
A RECITAL IN THE TRENCHES.
where along the way. The following
pretty incident is one thing that hap-
pened, according to a letter from a
lanche, each Cossack slips from his
saddle and suspends himself with
amazing skill by the side of his horse,
offering no target to the enemy's
sound I had ever heard. At the end, rifles.
a round of applause came down the When striking distance is reached,
trenches; but imagine our surprise to every man springs back into his sad -
hear clapping and calls for more, in ale, and risen and horses crash Ante
good English, from the German and through the enemy's ranks, mow -
trenches. Thereupon the Welsh- ing them down with thrust of lance
marc gave "Mentis Gwen," and sweep of sword, sparing none, nor
Meantime we realized that not a asking to be spared.
shot had been fired by either side dur-
ing the singing. We had forgotten 'p ;
all about war. So a bargain was
Hope 4 i
struck with the Germans, that if the p n ht.
S g
Welabman would give us another song A young man who had received his
neither side would fire anymore until diploma has been looking around sue -
daylight cessively fora position, for employ -
The third song was "Hen Wiad fy ment, and for a job. Entering an of-
Nhadau;" It was probably the first lice he asked to see the manager, and
time that the stirring Welsh anthem while waiting he said: to the off'lee
was ever heard en this dismal Flom- boy, "Do you suppose thetc is any
ish morass, opening here for a College gredu-
1 ate?" "Well, date will be," was tin
There are nine books and one reply, "if do boss don't raise me sale'"
Psalm mentioned in the Bible which ary to tree dellars.a'.week by tel.
are ;now 10to the wgrid, morrer bight." •