people. In time of peace the money for carrying on the government is raised by various kinds of taxes. People with incomes above a certain sum per year have to pay to the Government so much money for every pound which they earn or receive from investments. Those who have a lesser income do not pay what is called income tax, but you must not suppose that they go scot free. Spirits, beer, tea, coffee, tobacco, sugar, cocoa, dried fruits, and other things have to pay a duty—that is, a certain sum is added to their price, and this sum goes to the Government.

In time of war, when the expenses of the Government are much greater than they are in time of peace, the old taxes are raised and new taxes are imposed. In September 1915, for example, the taxes were raised some 40 per cent. Money is also raised from the savings of the people. They are asked to lend money to the State at a certain rate of interest, with the promise that the sum which they lend shall be paid back again in full at the end of a certain period. Of course, this interest has also to be provided by the taxpayers. Three hundred and fifty million pounds were borrowed in November 1914, but by June 1915 it was found necessary to borrow more money, and a loan of nearly six hundred millions—"far and away beyond any amount ever subscribed in the world's history"—was placed at the disposal of the Government. One feature of this loan was the attempt to get persons of small means to participate in it. Vouchers for 5s., 10s., and £1 were issued, and working men, and even school children, were encouraged to buy them. Unfortunately only about five millions were raised in this way, and later in the year other arrangements were made, in the hope of bringing in more money from the savings of the working classes. In September the people of the United States lent the British and French Governments one hundred millions, and this money was used to pay for some of the munitions and other things which we were buying from America.

War brought about many changes in our national life. We became a soberer people, and we refrained largely from those sports which are so dear to us in time of peace. Expensive entertainments were frowned upon, holidays were shortened or given up altogether, and many men beyond the military age spent their annual weeks of leisure in munition or farm work. Special constables were enrolled to take the place of the police who had joined the colours, and volunteer corps sprang up everywhere.

Women's Volunteer Reserve on a Route March in London.    Photo, Alfieri.

From the moment the war began, British women played a noble part. Not only did thousands of them qualify as nurses, and offer their services in the hospitals at home and abroad, but many of them became munition workers, ticket collectors, tram conductors, motor-car drivers, farm servants, and letter carriers. In every town and village there were work parties busily engaged in making socks, mufflers, mittens, etc., for the men in the trenches or for the wounded in the hospitals. The neglected art of knitting wonderfully revived, and women were seen plying the needles everywhere, in trams and trains, or at lectures and concerts. When the Germans first used poison gas against our troops, and the War Office asked for half a million respirators, wagon-loads of them arrived the next day. Girls' schools, women's societies, groups of friends and families buckled to, and in a remarkably short time the War Office was able to announce that no more respirators were needed.

Thousands of charitable societies made appeals for almost every war purpose imaginable. There were flag days in every town, and singers, actors, and lecturers gave their services in every good cause. The British Red Cross Society received the most generous support, while the many Belgian refugees in Britain were carefully tended, and, wherever possible, provided with work. Money was freely given by the public in every part of the Empire to set up hospitals and send nurses, doctors, and ambulances to France, Belgium, Russia, and Serbia; and even wounded horses were not neglected. One notable gift announced towards the end of November was the sum of £10,000 sent by the Canadian Government to assist in the upkeep of the Anglo-Russian hospital. In Great Britain many country houses were offered as hospitals and convalescent homes, and on the great sporting estates game was shot for the sick and wounded. Children gathered apples for the men of the Fleet, worked in the fields for short-handed farmers, and collected eggs and sphagnum moss[2] for the hospitals. There was no lack of ready and willing helpers for every good cause.

At this time of stress and anxiety the British nation learned the noble art of giving. There was scarcely a British household in the world which did not practise some self-denial in order to be able to send small luxuries and comforts to the men at the front, or much-needed help to the prisoners in Germany. Remote cottages in the Highlands of Scotland, lonely farms in the North-West of Canada, outlying homesteads in Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa were thus linked together by the same generous impulse.

Queen Elizabeth of Belgium visiting a Hospital.

(Photo, Newspaper Illustrations, Ltd.)
Queen Elizabeth is patron of the Belgian Field Hospital, to which the readers and friends of The Children's Story of the War have presented a motor ambulance.

While I am speaking of the noble way in which our people, far from the din of strife, ministered to the gallant men who were fighting their battles, I must not neglect the small but very useful effort made by the readers of these pages and their friends. While our third volume was in the course of serial issue, it was suggested that our readers should combine in some practical work of war charity. Then came the questions, Whom shall we help? and, How shall we help?

It was well known that the story of how poor little Belgium had been set upon by the great bully, Germany, and how her gallant sons had fought and suffered and died for us, had strongly moved the hearts of children. For this reason it was decided that the Belgian soldiers who were still struggling bravely, in the last bit of their native land that was left to them, should be assisted. They were terribly poor, and they had no money with which to set up hospitals and buy ambulances for their wounded. A number of devoted British doctors and nurses had established a hospital for the Belgian soldiers who had been stricken down in battle. Their hospital—the Belgian Field Hospital—was the only one on a proper footing which was caring for the wounded soldiers of our noble little ally. What better and finer work could we do than set about collecting money to provide this hospital with a motor ambulance?

As soon as the object of our effort was decided upon, a letter was written to her Majesty the Queen, asking her to permit the motor ambulance to be named after Prince George, to whom these pages are dedicated. The Queen, who nobly devotes herself to every good work, was graciously pleased to express her warm interest in our effort, and to permit us to inscribe Prince George's