of the meeting, but I doubt if there was much romance about it.
I am quite sure all the Anarchist cared about was his tobacco pouch and
all the servant was interested in was the further collection of
vegetables, just in case.
I can see our Anarchist, lying in his little white bed in the hospital,
surrounded by his sevenpenny racing novels (with or without covers), his
tins of navy-cut (some empty, some full), his fleece lining, his
compass, his socks, his field-glasses, his ties, his revolver and his
last month's letters (some opened, some not), all jumbled happily
together, with his ragged old shaving-brush reigning proudly in the
midst. I doubt if he knows he's been "mentioned," for one could never
get him to take interest in any news which wasn't "sporting"; possibly
he is made suspicious by the uncomfortable presence of unopened
telegrams in all corners of his bed. But one thing I do hope, and that
is that this bed is, at any rate, not strewn, inside and out, with
unexploded hand-grenades.
Yours ever, HENRY.
* * * * *
WARFARE AT THE BARBER'S.
[Illustration: "What do you think of the paper this morning, Sir?"]
[Illustration: "Quite time we had compulsion, eh?"]
[Illustration: "No good shutting our eyes to facts."]
[Illustration: "What we want is more energy."]
[Illustration: "Of course mistakes will happen"--]
[Illustration: "And it's no good pouring cold water on enthusiasm."]
[Illustration: "I'm hoping for that 'forward push' in the Spring."]
[Illustration: "Well, it will be a great relief when it's all over."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: PRUSSIAN DREAM OF PEACE IN THE SPRING.]
* * * * *
PROVINCIAL PATRIOTS.
_From Jim Figgis, Whitty Bridge, to George Roberts, South Farm,
Sudborough._
_Dec. 5th._ 1915.
DEAR GEORGE,--I hear the remount officer is coming round your part. I
have a compact little bay horse, just the sort for the Army. We must all
do our bit now, so here's our chance. The Vet says the horse has
laminitis in his off fore foot, but it's all my eye. Anyhow he's the
useful sort they require for the Army. They wouldn't look at me if I
offered him, but you can get round them. Give me fifty quid and I'll
send him over.
Your friend, J. FIGGIS.
_From George Roberts to Jim Figgis.
Dec. 7th,_ 1915.
DEAR JIM,--Yours to hand. No one can say that you're not a good patriot,
a
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