to the local regiment at the railway station, he replied:

“Locomotives, sir.”

REASONABLE PREJUDICE

Softly the nurse smoothed the sufferer’s pillow. He had only been admitted that morning, and now he looked pleadingly up at the “ministering angel” who stood at his bedside.

“An’ phwat did yez say the docthor’s name was, nurse, dear?” he asked.

“Dr. Kilpatrick,” was the reply. “He’s the senior house surgeon.”

The sufferer winced, and pulled a wry face.

“That settles it,” he muttered, firmly. “That docthor won’t get no chance to operate on me.”

“Why not?” asked the nurse, in surprise. “He’s a very clever man.”

“That’s as may be,” the patient said again, his voice cold and strong. “But me name happens to be Patrick.”

WAR’S UNKNOWN HEROES

Some men, dressed in civilian clothes, gathered together in the smoking-room of the hotel, discussing the joys and sorrows of life at the Front.

“Well, I’ve been with the Army and had a very interesting time,” said one.

“Ever got really alone with the enemy?” asked another.

“Rather! I once took two of their officers.”

“Unaided?”

“Of course! And the very next day I took eight men!”

“All wounded, I expect,” sneered a listener. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“Just a slight scratch, that’s all. And two days after I took a transport wagon, and followed up that by taking a big gun.”

“Sir,” said a disagreeable auditor, “I have seen some of the finest specimens of anything you can call to mind, but I wish to state that you are the biggest romancer that ever trod this earth.”

“Oh no, I am not that,” replied the hero; “but I am a photographer!”

THE RETORT JUVENILE

A well-informed miss of fourteen inquired of her brother, “What would you say if you met a German lady and she said, ‘Good morning, God punish England’?”

The boy quickly replied, “I’d say, ‘Don’t you think you’re very Hun-ladylike?’”

JUST TWO SHOTS APIECE

They are telling a story in Switzerland about what would happen if the Kaiser violated Swiss, as he has already violated Belgian, neutrality.

The Kaiser was amazed at a Swiss drill by the shooting of the Switzers, who all scored bull’s-eyes.

“Wonderful shots!” said the Kaiser to a Swiss general. “Wonderful shots!”

“And we have, your Majesty, 100,000 such shots in the Swiss army,” the general answered.

The Kaiser laughed, and in a joking way he said:

“But suppose I invaded you with 200,000 soldiers?”

“In that case, your Majesty,” said the other, “we should each of us fire twice.”

MISSED THE USUAL SIGNAL

A certain regiment stationed in Belfast was mustered in the Ormean Park for inspection, and were standing awaiting the arrival of their colonel. Presently the commanding officer was seen approaching on horseback, but when a few paces from the troops the horse (which had been hired for the day) stood stock-still, and refused to move.

The officer made desperate efforts to urge on his steed, but all to no purpose. Before long a group of bystanders encircled him, and one of them, a ragged urchin, suddenly cried out to his chum:—

“I say, Bill, run and ring the park bell; it’s a tramcar horse.”

This was enough for the colonel, who at once dismounted.

RIVERS IN THE WAR, NOW FAMOUS IN THE WORLD’S HISTORY

Rivers have always played a great and sometimes a decisive rôle in the great drama of war, and the colossal European struggle raging at the present moment is no exception to the rule. On the contrary, the greatest battle the world has ever seen, both by reason of its duration and the numbers engaged, is not unlikely to go down to history as the Battle of the Rivers. These are the Aisne, the Oise, and the Somme, all of which, during that interminable battle, literally ran with blood.

What a rôle, too, has the Meuse played in this war! Indeed, it may be safely said that this river literally saved the situation, for it was the difficulty of crossing it in the face of the fire of the Liége forts which caused that fortnight’s delay in the carrying out of the Kaiser’s programme which saved France, and perhaps eventually the British Empire. During that fortnight the waters of the Meuse were choked with the bodies of the slain.

The River Marne will ever be memorable because it was along the line of that river that the great battle—a battle which may later be regarded as one of the decisive battles of the war—took place, which turned the Germans back upon their long journey home. Tens of thousands on both sides were slain in attempts to cross and recross this stream.

The River Nethe, a tributary of the Scheldt, formed one of the main obstacles to the Germans in their great assault upon Antwerp. Time and time again the Germans succeeded in getting a pontoon bridge completed and came down to the river bank in solid masses to cross it. As they came every Belgian gun that could be turned upon the spot was concentrated upon them and they were blown away and the bridge destroyed, until the river literally ran with blood. Similar destructions of pontoon bridges burdened with their living freight of men and horses and guns have occurred on all the many rivers which this war has brought into the terrible limelight of battle.

A BITING RETORT

“Jones, the captain wants you, matey. Whatcher bin doin’?”

“It’s that dog!” ejaculated Private Jones, as he made ready to appear before his superior officer.

“Jones,” said that worthy, frowningly, “this gentleman complain that you have killed his dog.”

“A dastardly trick,” warmly interrupted the owner of the dog, “to kill a defenseless animal that would harm no one!”

“Not much defenseless about it,” chimed in the private, heatedly. “He bit pretty freely into my leg while I was on sentry duty, so I ran my bayonet into him.”

“Nonsense!” answered the owner, angrily. “He was such a docile creature. Why did you not defend yourself with the butt of your rifle?”

“Why didn’t he bite me with his tail?” asked Private Jones, humbly.