“Our Emperor has simplified matters to such an extent that when you ask the name of the world’s greatest poet, painter, musician, general, traveller, or monarch, there is only one answer to all the questions.” AS SEEN IN FRANCE Two French soldiers took their places in the trenches—the one middle-aged, who had long since received his baptism of fire, the other a mere youth, whose chattering teeth and blanched face proved it was his first experience of real war. The older soldier tried to reassure his frightened companion. “Be brave, my lad; remember you fight for France.” A shell screeched through the air close overhead, and the young man’s terror increased. More soothing words, but more shells, and the upset nerves still on edge. An hour passed, punctuated by many kindly encouragements, but the new soldier’s fear had not abated. The patience of the other was at last exhausted. “Why do you shiver and shake like that, you vain young fool?” said he. “You don’t suppose the Germans are firing all these expensive shells at you, do you? You are not a cathedral or a work of art!” ANYTHING TO QUALIFY A lot of old-timers of the Army and Navy Club in Piccadilly were swapping stories. “One Sam Haskins,” says a retired brigadier-general, “decided to enlist. He burned with a desire to serve his country. So he applied at a recruiting office, and was duly punched and prodded, trotted up and down, jumped over chairs and tables, and so forth. “Then came the questions. All manner of them were fired at him, and he answered most of them satisfactorily. Then came the stern inquiry: “‘Have you ever served a term of imprisonment?’ “‘No, sir,’ stammered Sam; ‘but,’ he added, hastily, ‘I’d be willing to serve a short one, if it’s necessary.’” TAKING THE JOY OUT OF LIFE Wife—“The heavy explosions of a battle always cause rain. It rained after Waterloo. It rained after Fontenoy. It rained after Marathon.” Husband—“But Marathon was fought with spears and arrows, my dear.” Wife—“There you go again! Always throwing cold water on everything I have to say.” ON HIS WAY Still another recruiting story. A new cavalry trooper was being initiated into the mysteries of riding when his horse bolted. “Where the deuce are you going?” thundered the instructor. The reply came back in gasps: “Don’t know—but the ’orse’s ’ome is at ’Ammersmith.” MORTIFIED THE FRENCHMAN “Of course, doctor, German measles are seldom serious?” “I never met but one fatal case.” “Fatal!” “Yes; it was a Frenchman, and when he discovered it was German measles that he had, mortification set in.” CHECKS FOR TWO When the young officer, ordered to the Front, called on his tailor to get a fresh outfit, the tailor could not forget that there was already an old and unsettled account. But he felt nervous about broaching the subject. “I see the Germans,” said the young officer, casually, “have had a check.” “Lucky Germans!” said the tailor, wistfully.