To-day we, as Britons, are fighting for our existence. To give our alien enemies a chance of espionage is a criminal act.
Sir Henry Dalziel advocates the constitution of an Aliens Board to deal with the whole subject. He evidently has no faith in the present indecision, for he has expressed himself in favour of moving all alien enemies fifty miles from the coast.
The flabby policy of indecision is, one must agree, a mistake.
No one wants to embarrass the Government, who in so many ways have done admirably, but, in the face of the serious dangers which must arise from the presence of 27,000 alien enemies within our gates at this moment, even implicit confidence must not stand in the way of a stern and effective national defence.
And the removal of the spy danger is, I maintain, eminently a matter of national defence.
It is for the public to make a stern and unmistakable demand.
The following lines, from an anonymous pen, appeared on December 10th in the Evening News, which has performed a patriotic work in pointing out the peril of spies, and demanding that they should be interned. Though amusing, the words really contain a good deal of truth:—
"Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Kaiser to the Spy,
"For I've lots of work to give you, and the pay is very high,
And you've only got to send me a report from day to day,
All about the English people, and the things they do and say.
"There is Fritz and Franz and Josef, though their names you may not know,
You may write to them and see them, but as 'Number So-and-So,'
And should you meet your brother or your mother at the game,
You are not to recognise them; they're numbers just the same.
"You will travel through the country in the name of Henry Jones,
Or as Donald P. McScotty, selling artificial stones;
You will rent a modest dwelling in the shadow of a base,
And when nobody is looking you will photograph the place.