Private——writes from the Front:—
"Dear Mother, I expected when I come to France to hear the pheasants shouting the mayonnaise, but you dont."
"Reinforcements subsequently arrived, and a squadron of dragons then courageously attacked the enemy."—Westminster Gazette.
Thus heaping coals of fire on the head of poor St. George.
MY EWE LION.
I must confess that I was finding it rather galling to have no friends at all at the Front. Everyone else was so well furnished with these acquaintances, often actually relations. But I had no one I knew, although gradually one by one my clerks joined Kitchener's Army and passed to various training grounds, returning (in my opinion far too often) to the office in their uniforms to disturb the routine and waste the time of the others. Some drilling and instruction I am assured go on in these camps, but I see in London every day sufficient English soldiers to drive twice the present number of Germans out of Belgium—if they really meant it.