Meanwhile, the Suffragists have triumphantly surmounted their last obstacle
in the House of Lords, and Votes for Women is now an accomplished fact. But
the Irish Andromeda still awaits her Perseus, gazing wanly at her various
champions in Convention. The Ulsterman's plea for conscription in Ireland
has been rejected after Sir Auckland Geddes had declared that it would be
of no use as a solution of the present difficulty. He did not give his
reasons, but they are believed to be Conventional. Mr. Barnes has described
the Government as "living on the top of a veritable volcano," but, in spite
of the context, the phrase must not be taken to refer to the Minister of
Munitions, who, as everybody knows, cannot be sat upon.
Military experts tell us that this is a "Q" war, meaning thereby that the
Quartermaster-General's department is the one that matters. Naval experts
sometimes drop hints attaching another significance to that twisty letter.
Harassed house-keepers are beginning to think that this is a "queue-war,"
and look to Lord Rhondda to end it. For the moment the elusive rabbit has
scored a point against the Food Controller, but public confidence in his
ability is not shaken. All classes are being drawn together by a communion
of inconvenience. The sporting miner's wife can no longer afford dog
biscuits: "Our dog's got to eat what we eats now.
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