Soldiers, too, are very fond of pets. The story goes that on one occasion a sergeant appeared on his troopship with a little woolly dog. The quartermaster on duty refused to allow the animal on board. The sergeant thought awhile, and then went on shore. An hour later he came back with a cage. In it was a very queer-looking creature, which, though it had four feet, was covered with hen’s feathers. “Can’t pass that there dog on board,” said the quartermaster. “Dog?” said the sergeant. “This ain’t no dog. It’s a Maltese four-footed Bird of Paradise, and there’s no rules against taking birds on board!” The laugh was with him, and his pet was allowed on board ship. IV On September 22 the Germans scored a success against us with a submarine attack. This resulted in the loss of three cruisers, the Aboukir, Hogue, and Cressy. These were all old ships, and as a matter of fact were afloat for the last time, as the Admiralty had decided to sell them for breaking up. What could not be replaced was the loss of some twelve hundred officers and men. Only about eight hundred and fifty were saved out of over two thousand. I expect that most of you have seen a picture of a submarine, but I do not suppose that any of you know very much about this extraordinary deep-sea fighting ship, which has been well said to wear the cloak of darkness. The submarine can attack unseen with the deadly weapon of the torpedo, and she can retreat undiscovered. But she is rather slow and she is what is called blind in attack; she has to come up to the surface before she can see exactly where her enemy is. It is said that if she could get along more quickly than she does she could do a great deal more mischief. Still, when commanded and manned by cool, brave men, and when she has luck on her side, she can do quite mischief enough. The disaster would probably not have happened if the three cruisers had had with them their usual escort of destroyers—those speedy little craft which are the terror of submarines. Unfortunately, the weather was very bad, and the destroyers were delayed. This was the opportunity for which the German submarine, commanded by Lieut.-Commander Weddingen, had long been waiting. The cruisers were on patrol duty somewhere off the Hook of Holland. They did not see the tiny periscope of the submarine, as it emerged amid the ruffled waters. The German had nine torpedoes to fire, and she had plenty of time to choose her first victim. This was the Aboukir. Lieut.-Commander Weddingen himself thought his torpedo hit the cruiser under one of her magazines, which by exploding helped to destroy the ship. However that may be, the Aboukir soon broke up and sank, and of course her sister ships stopped and lowered boats to rescue as many as possible of the crew.