Through iron hail and shattering shell,
Where the dull earth is stained with red,
Fearless she fronts the gates of Hell
And shields the unforgotten dead.
So stands she, with her all at stake,
And battles for her own dear life,
That by one victory she may make
For evermore an end of strife.
[Illustration: THE CHILDREN'S PEACE
PEACE: "I'm glad that they, at least, have their Christmas unspoiled."]
Yet we have our minor war gains in the temporary disappearance of cranks
and faddists, some of whom have sunk without a ripple. And though the Press
Censor's suppressions and delays and inconsistencies provoke discontent in
the House and out of it, food for mirth turns up constantly in unexpected
quarters. The Crown Prince tells an American interviewer that there is no
War Party in Germany, nor has there ever been. The German General Staff
have begun to disguise set-backs under the convenient euphemism that the
situation has developed "according to expectation." An English village
worthy, discussing the prospects of invasion, comes to the reassuring
conclusion that "there can't be no battle in these parts, Jarge, for there
bain't no field suitable, as you may say; an' Squire, 'e won't lend 'em the
use of 'is park." The troubles of neutrality are neatly summed up in a
paper in a recent geography examination.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35