The tortured women lift white lips to Me,
The eyes of murdered white-haired sires and dames
Stare up at Me.—And the sad anguished eyes
Of My dumb beasts in agony.
—Thy work!”
JOHN OXENHAM
KULTUR HAS PASSED HERE
Michael and the Marks
“The Loan: good for 100 marks!” Look at him! He is the favoured of the Earth, lives in Germany, where Kultur is peerless, and education complete (even tho’ the man may become a martyr of method). War comes! and he is seen, as an almond tree in blossom his years tell, when lo! a War Loan is raised with real Helfferichian candour, and Michael has just stepped out of the Darlehnskasse, at Oberwesel-on-the-Rhine, or other seat of Kultur and War Loan finance. Are visions about? said an American humorist now gone to the Shades; and Michael, Loan note in hand, eyes reversed, after a visit to two or three offices, wants to know, and wonders whether this note can be regarded as “hab und gut,” and if so, good for how much? Is it a wonder that an artist in a Neutral Country should depict German affairs as in this condition, and business done in this manner? Michael is puzzled; and in the language of the Old Kent Road, “’e dunno where ’e are!” He is puzzled, and not without cause.