HOW TO GET UP A HOLY WAR
(German Style).
[The Special Correspondent of The Times at Salonica states that "among the documents examined at the Consulate of his Catholic and Apostolic Majesty of Austria are 1,500 copies of a long proclamation in Arabic to the Chiefs of the Senussis, inciting them to a Holy War on non-Germanic Christendom." The proclamation purports to be composed by one of the Faithful, but "its pseudo-Oriental wording clearly betrays its Germanic authorship.">[
In Allah's name, Senussis! Allah's name!
Please note the Holy War that we proclaim!
High at the main we hoist our sacred banner
(Forgive my pseudo-Oriental manner);
For now the psychologic Tag has come
To put the final lid on Christendom,
Always excepting that peculiar part
Which has the hopes of Musulmans at heart.
For lo! this noble race (its Chief has said it;
Else would it seem almost too good to credit),
Prompted by generous instincts, undertakes
To waive its scruples and for your sweet sakes,
Indifferent to private gain or loss,
To help the Crescent overthrow the Cross.
Christians they are, I own, this Teuton tribe,
Yet not too Christian. I could here inscribe
A tale of feats performed with pious hands
On those who crossed their path in Christian lands
Which, even where Armenia kissed his rod,
Would put to shame The Very Shadow of God.
You must not therefore feel a pained surprise
At having Christian dogs for your allies;
For there are dogs and dogs; and, though the base
Bull terrier irks you, 'tis a different case
When gentle dachshunds jump to your embrace.
If crudely you remark: "A holy win
May suit our friends, but where do we come in?"
My answer is: "Apart from any boom
Islam secures by sealing England's doom,
We shall, if we survive the coming clash,
Collect papyrus notes in lieu of cash;
And, if we perish, as we may indeed,
We have a goodly future guaranteed,
With houris waiting in Valhalla's pile"
(Pardon my pseudo-Oriental style).
These are the joys, of which I give the gist,
Secured to those who trust the Kaiser's fist,
Which to the infidel is hard as nails
Or eagles' claws whereat the coney quails,
But to the Faithful, such as you, Senussis,
Is softer than the velvet paws of pussies.
O. S.
From a story in The Glasgow Herald:—
"'He had his feathers ruffled that time, anyway,' laughed my husband, as he followed me whistling into the house."
It isn't every woman that has a husband who can talk and laugh and whistle all at once. Was he the clever man in the French tale, we wonder, who chanted a Scottish air, accompanying himself on the bag-pipes?
"Fire has broken out in an oven in Kafr Zarb, near Suez, completely destroying the fire brigade extinguishing the blaze."
Egyptian Mail.
Serve them right for their officiousness.
"Wanted, Experienced Ruler (female); permanency."
Bristol Times and Mirror.
Might suit a widow.