set_ call, and down
came every German flag, never again to be flown aboard those vessels of
the High Sea Fleet. For Germany _Der Tag_ had gone. For the British
_The Day_ had come; and they hailed it with a roar of British-Lion
cheers.

Most regrettably, the Allies, headed by President Wilson, decided that
the German men-of-war should be interned, not surrendered, when sent to
Scapa Flow. If these ships, after being surrendered to the Allies, had
been put in charge of the British, or any other navy, as "surrenders,"
guards would have been put on board of them and all would have been
well. But interned ships are left to their own crews, no foreign
guards whatever being allowed to live on board. The result of this
mistake, deliberately made against the advice of the British, was that,
on the 21st of June, the Germans, with their usual treachery, opened
the sea-cocks and sank the ships they had surrendered and the Allies
had interned.

A week later, on the 28th of June, 1919, in the renowned historic
palace of Versailles, the Allies and Germany signed the Treaty of Peace
by which they ended the Great War exactly five years after the
assassination of Franz Ferdinand had given the Austro-German empires
the excuse they wanted to begin it.

RULE, BRITANNIA!

Thomson's famous verses and Arne's famous air (in which Wagner said he
could see the whole character of the English people) were sung for the
first time during the Royal fete held at Clieveden, a celebrated
country residence beside "the silver Thames." This was on the 1st of
August, 1740. The 1st of August was the day on which Nelson won his
first great victory just fifty-eight years later; and Clieveden is
where the Duchess of Connaught's Canadian Hospital was established
during the Great War.

When Britain first, at Heaven's command,
Arose from out the azure main,
This was the charter of the land,
And guardian angels sung this strain:
"Rule, Britannia! Britannia rule the waves!
Britons never will be slaves."

The nations not so bless'd as thee
Must in their turn to tyrants fall;
While thou shall flourish great and free,
The dread and envy of them all.
"Rule, Britannia, &c."

Still more majestic shalt thou rise,
More dreadful from each foreign stroke;
As the loud blast that tears the skies
Serves but to root thy native oak.
"Rule, Britannia, &c."

Thee haughty tyrants ne'er shall tame;
All th