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September 16, 1914.]



read with very great interest the official and authentic information circulated by the Wolff Agency with regard to the status of the Austrian Landsturm. From this we learn that "on account of its gallant conduct" (attended apparently by disastrous results) the Emperor has granted it permission to serve outside Austria. This is a gracious concession which will no doubt be very highly appreciated by the Landsturm; but one trifling difficulty seems to stand in the way. To be frank, we do not quite see how they are going to get outside. At least it would be well for them to take steps before it is too late. Events have not facilitated the journey via Lemburg, or that via Sarajevo. We know it would be a cruel disappointment if they found themselves debarred from enjoying this exceptional boon. Perhaps they might try the emergency exit to Italy, where a warm reception would await them.

Meanwhile the idea has been taken up by brother Emperor, who never likes to miss a good thing. We understand that he has granted to the German Fleet—on account of its gallant conduct in the Kiel Canal—permission to serve outside in the North Sea and also in the Solent. We need hardly add that the news has been received with the utmost geniality by the British Fleet.



"Cardinal Vanutelli, the doyen of the Papal Conclave, has had the misfortune to break his conclave.'—Liverpool Echo."

"'The Antwerp correspondent of the 'Telegraaf' states that yesterday, between Termonde and Ghent, German soldiers fired upon a train full of Reuter.'—Birmingham Daily Post."

From a poster:—

This is, of course, a rhetorical exaggeration. Actually it would be a small piece of Austria.

From a letter in The Globe on the liberty allowed to German prisoners:

"'With Portland and Weymouth almost within artillery range the thing seems monstrous. Who is responsible?—I am, &c., .'"

Then we hope Middle Templar is ashamed of himself.



the buzzing tram-ear dips
 * Adown Commercial Road,

Till you may see the masts of ships,
 * With all their canvas stowed,
 * Stand o'er the house-tops, high
 * Against blue sky;
 * And thus Romance doth stray,
 * Mid work-a-day.

O drabbest of all penny fares!
 * Yet may you catch a glimpse

Of little dusty courts and squares
 * Where little dusty imps
 * Play by the plane-trees there,
 * Squalid, un-fair—
 * If these a child or tree
 * Could ever be.

The trams they go with hoot and lurch
 * Long miles, through glare and grime,

With here and there a dim cool church
 * Wide open all the time;
 * Where on this lovely day
 * Folk stop to pray
 * That wars, at length, may cease
 * And we have peace.



"'With German factories paralysed and the cold grip of the British Feet about her throat, Germany, it is argued, must bring the war to a close before starvation conquers her.'

Yorkshire Evening Post."