OUR VOLUNTEER RESERVE.
"I don't believe in putting us into uniform. It'll make the drilling much harder."
"Why?"
"Well, for instance, suppose the command is 'On the left—form platoon.' I know as long as I get in between your hat and this chap's cap I'm all right. But if we all looked alike where should I be?"
THE PRICE.
Among the working classes they do speak rather seriously sometimes of the high prices of food.
On the 7.21 the other morning, from somewhere in the East, the subject engaged the attention of the railway compartment.
"Bread at eightpence—and Britain mistress of the seas! Scand'lous! The Gover'ment ought to be ashamed of 'emselves."
"'Ark at old Charlie! What's the matter wi' you this mornin', Charlie my boy? Didn't the missis give you any breakfast afore you come out?"
"Never mind what the missis give me. What gets over me is that there's blokes like you as'll submit to it like bloomin' sheep, afraid to open your mouths. If the Gover'ment can find ships to take its soldiers across the Channel, and all the luxuries they get———"
"'Ere, none of that! You stop that, young Charlie, 'r else you get outed at the next station, if not before. Ain't that right, gen'lemen? Speakin' for meself, I'd a dam sight sooner pay eightpence for bread for my kids now than ave to find fivepence for 'em like I did last February, and nothin' comin' in".
"Yes, and when was you workin' overtime in February before, Charlie? Besides, it's worth payin' a bit extra to know that the Kayser's gettin' it in the neck.'
"Kayser? What's the workin' classes got to do with your Kaysers and Kings?"
"That puts the lid on, my son; next station, and out you go. You can give your Keir 'Ardie chat to somebody else."
"Oh, leave 'im alone. 'E ain't 'appy unless 'e's sufferin'. Wait till 'e's earnin' four quid a week, with all this overtime 'e's gettin'—won't 'e 'ave somethin' to say about the income tax!"
The man in the corner had been listening, but had said nothing. He was older than any of the others. Now he spoke.
"You don't know what you're talkin' about," he said almost contemptuously.
"Who don't?"
"None of you don't. You don't know 'ow much bread costs. Eightpence!"
"Well, that's right, ain't it?"
"No, and I'll tell you the price of it. I've got my three boys out there—at least, I had. One's in hospital with his leg off—he'll be home next week. One's in the trenches—or was, when I heard last. And my Bill, he was on the Monmouth."
The train stopped. Nobody moved to put Charlie out, and nothing was said. Then the train went on; and presently the elderly man spoke again: "Eightpence! And what price my boys? You don't know anythin' about it. It ain't you that's payin'."
"By pouring boiling water down the barrels of their rifles our soldiers keep the rifles clear of dust."—Daily Mirror.
We were half afraid that our troops at the Front were having weather like ours. But it seems that, in addition to the usual corrosive acid deposit, there is dust in their barrels. They should collect this after blowing it out through the breech, as a peck of dust is known to be extremely valuable about this time of year.
