A LAYMAN’S PRAYER FOR AMERICAN SOLDIERS
OUR Father which art in Heaven, bless and inspire our armies in the field, our ships upon the sea. Watch over the sons of America fighting for Liberty. Strengthen and hearten them in the hour of pain and peril. Grant them victory, we beseech Thee, and lead them safely home. Make us who love them do our part loyally. Keep us united in our will to bring upon earth a reign of right and freedom. Amen.
CLEVELAND MOFFETT.
Bang!
“Dog-gone it, Hindenburg, don’t make your
strategic moves when I am standing directly behind
you!”
ON one occasion, when Hindenburg reported having “carried out his retreat according to plan,” the Kaiser, encamped at the rear, received a very discomfiting bump. Evidently, the “plan” was no less an inspiration of the moment than many others the Germans have announced, in order to put a good face upon their reverses.
“I Must Break in Here Before
That Comes Down”
THE small speck that at first seemed a dull mist hanging over the Western Hemisphere caused little else than sarcastic flings at our own Republic, and had it been possible to awaken pity in the breast of the Arch Demon, striving to spread his wings over the whole world, some sympathy might have fallen to us, for the weak mind we showed in presuming we could do anything to check the Imperial army in its brutal course. But happily great oaks from little acorns grow, from stationary mists dark clouds may rise, from low uncertain rumblings the ear-splitting thunder clap may spring, and make man and beast seek cover. So, by the Grace of God, things have developed, and the mist that was a banquet joke, is transformed, and spread into a veritable storm, and its direction is across the wide ocean; it is an on-rusher that awakens a craven fear; and it well may. It is no autumn cloud, whose fleecy skirts the sun has painted with gold; but something equalling the harbinger of death, that the soothsayers saw driving over Rome when Cæsar’s end was nigh; on which could be seen “Fierce fiery warriors in ranks, and squadrons and in right form of war”; and from which blood is drizzling, not only to fall over France, or Flanders, but perhaps to darken the sky, and crimson the soil, even at that nest of iniquity, Potsdam.