In another part of the paper I read of a young and powerful man in an English village who, on being asked if he did not think that England was in danger, replied "Yes." He was then asked if he did not think that it was necessary to fight for her, and he replied "Yes" again. He was then asked who in his opinion were the most suitable volunteers to come to her aid, and he replied, "Other people." So far the story is not appreciably different from a story that you might read anywhere. But the version in my paper stated that he was seized by all the company present and not only ducked in the nearest horse-pond but held under the water for quite a long time, and then held under the water again. And another article--a most exciting one--described the success of a British aviator who flew over Essen and dropped five bombs on KRUPP'S gun factory and did irreparable damage. I forget his name, but, although he was pursued, he got clear away and returned to the Allies' lines. There was a fellow for you! So you see that I get some good reading out of my favourite paper. And more is to come! * * * * * THE PRICE OF WAR. Now woe is me! My treasure, my delight, My guerdon after many toilsome days, Shall gladden me no more. It was a sight To bid men gape in wonderment, and praise My patient courage that endured despite The gibes of friends and Delia's pitying ways. Ah, cruel fate that forced my hand to snip Such costly growth as graced my upper lip! Moustache most cherished! Not as other men That let their lush growth riot as it will, With just a formal waxing now and then, Did I maintain it. Nay, with loving skill And all the precious oils within the ken Of cunning alchemists I strove until Its soaring points aspired to pierce the skies, And I was martial in my Delia's eyes. Great store of gold I lavished. Yea, I went To one that works in metals and I bought A kind of dreadful iron instrument With leathern straps, most wonderfully wrought, And wore that horror nightly, well content To bear such anguish for the prize I sought. And all this patient toil was thrown away-- They stoned me for the KAISER yesterday! * * * * * At a time when every penny that can be spared is needed for the help of our soldiers in the field and of our wounded, or to relieve the distress of the Belgian refugees or our own sufferers from the War, a public appeal is being made to the citizens of Newcastle-on-Tyne for subscriptions to a fund for presenting a testimonial to their Lord Mayor, on the ground that he has done his duty. We beg to offer our respectful sympathy to the LORD MAYOR of Newcastle-on-Tyne. * * * * * Illustration: _Colonel of Swashbucklers._ "NAH THEN, SWANK! THE WIMMIN CAN LOOK ARTER THEIRSELVES. YOU 'OP IT AND JINE YER REGIMENT." * * * * *