efore us the immediate message is of the simplest. The
Kaiser counts the head of British merchantmen sunk. Von Tirpitz counts
the cost. But note the subtlety of the personation and environment. The
Kaiser has those terrible haunted eyes that have marked the seer's
presentment of him from quite an early stage of the war. There can be no
ultimate escape from the dreadful vision that has set the seal of
despair on this fine and handsome visage. He is shown, not as a sea
monster, but as some rabid, evasive, impatient thing, dashing from point
to point--as from policy to policy--with the angry swish that tells the
unspoken anger failure everywhere compels. For the victories do not
bring surrender, nor does frightfulness inspire terror. The merchant
ships still put to sea--and the U boats pay the penalty.

The futility of this campaign of murder is typified by making Von
Tirpitz, its inventor, an addle-headed seahorse, the nursery comedian of
the sea. Stupid and ridiculous bewilderment stares from his foolish
eyes. Another submarine has failed to find a safe victim in a trading
ship, but has been hoisted with its own sea petard. The impotence of the
thing!

This conference of the Admirals of the Atlantic, held in the sombre
depths, is a biting satire, in its mingled comedy and tragedy, on the
effort to win command of the sea from its bottom.

ARTHUR POLLEN.

[Illustration: "U'S"

HIS MAJESTY: "Well, Tripitz, you've sunk a great many?"

TIRPITZ: "Yes, sire, here is another 'U' coming down."]

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MATER DOLOROSA

You thought to grasp the world; but you shall keep
Its crown of curses nailed upon your brow.
You that have fouled the purple, broke your vow,
And sowed the wind of death, the whirlwind you shall reap.

Shout to your tribal god to bless the blood
Of this red vintage on the poisoned earth;
Clash cymbals to him, leap and shout in mirth;
Call on his name to stay the coming, cleansing flood.

We are no hounds of heaven, nor ravening band
Of earthly wolves to tear your kingdom down.
We stand for human reason; at our frown
The coward sword shall fall from your accursed hand.

We do not speak of vengeance; there shall run
No little children's blood beneath our heel.
No pregnant woman suffers from our steel;
But Justice we