quid fire! Will
they, when their hour comes, find it easy to obey the poet's injunction,
and, wrapping the mantle of their past about them, "lie down to pleasant
dreams?"
We are assured that these professors have not exhausted their powers of
frightfulness. It may be so. This is certain: Such frightfulness will
ultimately exhaust them. With this reflection, we may leave them, grist
to be ground by the mills of God.
HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL.
[Illustration: ARCADES AMBO
THE PROFESSOR: "I have discovered a new mixture which will blind them in
half an hour."
SATAN: "You are in very truth my master."]
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"IS IT YOU, MOTHER?"
Since the opening of hostilities in the present war the Scottish
regiments have given repeated proofs of a valour which adds new lustre
to the great traditions of Scottish soldiership. Through all the early
operations--on the retreat from Mons and at the battles of the Marne and
the Aisne--the Royal Scots Guards, the Scots Greys, the Gordon, the
Seaforth and the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, the King's Own
Scottish Borderers gained many fresh laurels by their heroism and
undaunted spirit. The London Scottish Territorials, too, have shown a
prowess as signal as that of the Scots of the Regular Army; while the
mettle of men of Scottish descent has made glorious contribution in
France and elsewhere to the fine records of the Overseas armies.
It is the inevitable corollary that death should levy a heavy toll on
Scottish soldiers in the field. Thousands of kilted youth have suffered
the fate which Raemaekers depicts in the accompanying cartoon. It is
not, of course, only the young Scot whose thought turns in the moment of
death to the hearth of his home with vivid memories of his mother. But
the word "home" and all that the word connotes often makes a more urgent
appeal to the Scot abroad than to the man of another nationality. There
is significance in the fact that, far as the Scots are wont to wander
over the world's surface, they should, under every sky and in every
turning fortune, treasure as a national anthem the song which has the
refrain:--
"For it's hame, an' it's hame, fain wad I be,
O! it's hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie!"
The German soldier in this war would seem to have lost well nigh all
touch of humanity. Yet the draughtsman here suggest
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