s, like
curses, have an awkward way of coming home to roost. Mr. Punch's views on
the Kaiser, expressed in his Christmas Epilogue, are worth recalling. Mr.
Punch did not clamour for the death penalty, or wish to hand him over to
the tender mercies of German Kultur. "The only fault he committed in German
eyes is that he lost the War, and I wouldn't have him punished for the
wrong offence--for something, indeed, which was our doing as much as his.
No, I think I would just put him out of the way of doing further harm, in
some distant penitentiary like the Devil's Island, and leave him to himself
to think it all over; as _Caponsacchi_ said of _Guido_ in 'The
Ring and the Book':

Not to die so much as slide out of life,
Pushed by the general horror and common hate
Low, lower--left o' the very edge of things."

[Illustration:

"Don't you think we ought to hang the Kaiser, Mrs. 'Arris?"

"It ain't the Kaiser I'm worrying about--it's the bloke what interjuiced
his war-bacon."]

[Illustration: REUNITED

Strasbourg, December 8th, 1918.]

Christmas, 1918, was more than "the Children's Truce." Our bugles had "sung
truce," the war cloud had lifted, the invaded sky was once more free of
"the grim geometry of Mars," and though very few households could celebrate
the greatest of anniversaries with unbroken ranks, the mercy of reunion was
granted to many homes. Yet Mr. Punch, in his Christmas musings on the
solemn memory of the dead who gave us this hour, could not but realise the
greatness of the task that lay before us if we were to make our country
worthy of the men who fought and died for her. The War was over, but
another had yet to be waged against poverty and sordid environment; against
the disabilities of birth; against the abuse of wealth; against the mutual
suspicions of Capital and Labour; against sloth, indifference,
self-complacency, and short memories.

So the Old Year passed, the last of a terrible _quinquennium,_
bringing grounds for thankfulness and hope along with the promise of unrest
and upheaval: with Alsace-Lorraine reunited to France, with the British
army holding its Watch on the Rhine, and with all eyes fixed on Paris, the
scene of the Peace Conference, already invaded by an international army of
delegates, experts, advisers, secretaries, typists, 500 American
journalists, and President Wilson.

Great Expectations and their Tardy Fulfilment, thus in headline fashion
might one summarise the stor