Though the wings of the angel of Peace cannot be heard, peace kite-flying has already begun in Vienna, but Germany is anxious to represent it as unauthorised and improper. Mr. Henry Ford's voyage to Europe on the _Oscar II_ with a strangely assorted group of Pacificists does more credit to his heart than his head, and the conflicting elements in his party have earned for his ship the name of "The Tug of Peace." Anyhow, England is taking no risks on the strength of these irregular "overtures." A vote has been passed for a further increase of our "contemptible little Army" to four millions; and the manufacture of high explosive goes on in an ever-increasing ratio. Sir Douglas Haig has succeeded Sir John French as Commander-in-Chief of our Armies in France; Sir William Robertson is the new Chief of Staff--Scotsmen both of the finest type--and the appointments are universally approved, even by the _Daily Mail_. The temper of the men in France is well hit off by an officer when he says that "Atkins is really best when an ordinary mortal might be contemplating suicide or desertion." And officers arriving on leave at Victoria at 2 A.M. are driven to the conclusion that they are sent back to England from time to time to check their optimism, which at the front survives even being sent to so-called rest camps in the middle of a malodorous marsh for nine hours' military training _per diem_. The "philosophy of Thomas" is inscrutable, but no doubt he derives satisfaction from comparisons: If we're standin' in two foot o' water, you see Quite likely the Boches are standin' in three; An' though the keen frost may be ticklin' our toes, 'Oo doubts that the Boches' 'ole bodies is froze? So 'ere's our philosophy, simple an' plain: Wotever we 'ates in the bloomin' campaign, 'Tis balm to our souls, as we grumble an' cuss, To feel that the Boches are 'atin' it wuss. Hardest of all is the lot of the trooper in the trenches, who "thinks all day and dreams all night of a slap-bang, tally-ho! open fight," but for the time being "like a blinded mole toils in a furrow and lives in a hole." [Illustration: AN UNAUTHORISED FLIRTATION THE KAISER (to Austrian Emperor): "Franz! Franz! I'm surprised and pained."] The National Thrift campaign is carried on with great earnestness in Parliament. Luxury, waste, unnecessary banquets, high legal salaries have all come under the lash of the economy hunters. Of the maxim that "Charity begins, at home," they have, however, so far shown no appreciation beyond abstaining from voting any addition to their salary of £400 a year. Mr. Asquith's announcement that he takes his salary, and is going to continue taking it, has naturally lifted a great weight from the minds of these vicarious champions of economy. [Illustration: TOMMY (finding a German prisoner who speaks English): "Look what you done to me, you blighters! 'Ere--'ave a cigarette?"]