But worse than these, who simply shirk, Are those employed to fashion arms, Who tempt their fellows not to work, And give us all such grave alarms-- Traitors! If their deserts they got They would be either hanged or shot. The wind blows shrewdly here to-night, My heart bleeds, as I think, perchance, How numbed with cold our heroes fight; How chill those trenches, there in France. The thought unmans me. Ere I weep, I'll drink my gruel--and to sleep. * * * * * An officer in Egypt writes:-- "Cairo is a gay city, at least so they say. The chief hotels put up boards showing the amusements to be enjoyed. A sample of an eventful week follows:-- 'COMING EVENTS. MONDAY. TUESDAY. WEDNESDAY. THURSDAY. FRIDAY. Museum will not open. SATURDAY. SUNDAY. ----, _Manager_, ---- _Hotel_.'" * * * * * "A very interesting cricket-match took place at Ghain Tuffieha on Wednesday last, 24th inst., when eleven Nursing Sisters played eleven officers. The game throughout was very keen and the Sisters have nothing to learn from the Officers in the way of wicket-keeping, batting and yielding." _Daily Malta Chronicle._ * * * * * [Illustration: THE SHADOW ON THE WALL.] * * * * * [Illustration: _Job's Comforter._ "IF THEY KEEP ON STOPPING YOUR LEAVE LIKE THIS YOU'LL NEVER SEE YOUR NEW KID TILL THE WAR'S OVER." _Job._ "OH, YES, I EXPECT I SHALL. HE'LL BE COMING OUT HERE IN 1934."] * * * * * A SOLUTION.