Before the outbreak of hostilities in 1898, which culminated in the Yanko-Spanko war, there existed between France, Germany and Spain a secret, yet none the less tacit understanding, that in the event of war, the two powers first named would come forward to the assistance of Spain as against the cordially detested Yankees. France held the bulk of Spanish securities and was vitally interested in the issue of the conflict between Spain and America. The success of the Spanish cause or its disaster, signified either the gain or loss of millions of Spanish securities. Her sympathies, therefore, were given over to Spain and the French government and people were quite ready to expend chilled steel and smokeless powder against the bulwarks of America. Germany, on the other hand, in her self-assumed rôle of general meddler-in-chief of [Spain's Two Great and Good Friends.] the so-styled "European concert," was spoiling for a fight with a country that had taken from her hundreds of thousands of her best citizens and whose industrial expansion was a thorn in her side. For the first time since 1870, when the French tri-color was humbled in the dust of Sedan, Germany and France were interested in a common cause against America, and were actuated by the same selfish motives against the American Republic. Both were ready in April, 1898, to fly at America's throat and in unison with Spain, administer to our American Republic a first-class thrashing. These two worthies entertained the notion that the great American Republic would very soon be humbled and be only too glad to sue for peace on bended knees. In return for her valuable services in this delightful program, Germany was to be rewarded by Spain with the gift outright of the Philippine islands. This was the beautiful cluster of grapes which tempted the cupidity of the German fox. But, alas, in the language of the lamented Josh Billings, "nothing is more certain than the uncertainty of this world." France and Germany, (an ill-assorted and graceless pair,) had reckoned without their host. Sorely against their wishes, with hat in hand, France and Germany found themselves under the absolute necessity of calling at the office of a certain pugnacious and only too well known gentleman by the name of John Bull, whose home since the days of the Druids and William the Bastard has been in the snug little island of England and whose postoffice address is London. They (F. and G.) came to consult John Bull on the very important subject of their proposed expedition against America, with Spain acting as a tail to their kite.