Private Saunders (whose battalion, having been sent back from the front line for "rest," is compelled to spend the night in the street, its billets being still occupied by other troops—to cheery pal, who breaks into song). "'USH, GINGER—YOU'LL GIVE THE TOWN A BAD NAME."
WHITEHALL WHISPERINGS.
(With apologies to the seers of the Sunday papers.)
A great port was swathed in bunting last week. I was there, but I must not say what caused this outburst of enthusiasm. But even the Censor can scarcely forbid my hinting that it was connected with a naval success of peculiar brilliance which must be suppressed because we wish to keep the Bosches guessing.
Who was in Switzerland when he was regularly reported as being in attendance at War Council meetings? Who was actually supposed to have addressed a public meeting in England when in reality he was hundreds of miles away? I make no statement; I merely write the word "Austria." To those who understand it will be enough.
Have you noticed that for some weeks we have had no news from the Port of Danzig? I draw no deduction, but do not be surprised to hear in a few weeks that the Port of Danzig has ceased to exist.