[Thoughts extracted from a sea-shell (howitzer pattern) by Our Own Special Conchologist on the Belgian Coast.]
There was a King by name Canute
(In ancient jargon known as Knut),
And I, for one, will not dispute
The kingly figure which he cut;
A god in mufti—so his courtiers said—
Whatever thing he chose to have a try at,
He did it (loosely speaking) on his head,
By just remarking, "Fiat!"
One day they sat him by the sea
To put his virtue to the test,
And there, without conviction, he
Threw off the following, by request:—
"Ocean," he said, "I see your waves are wet"
(Bravely he spoke, but in his heart he funked 'em),
"So to your further progress here I set
A period, or punctum."
He knew it wasn't any good
Talking like that; and when the foam
Made for his feet (he knew it would)
He turned at once and made for home;
And "I'm no god, but just a man," he cried,
"And you, my sycophants, are sorry rotters,
Who told your Knut that he could dare the tide
To damp his heavenly trotters."
*****
The scene was changed. Another strand;
Another god (alleged) was there
(In spirit, you must understand;
His actual frame occurred elsewhere);—
"O element designed for German ships,
Whose future lies," said he, "upon the water,
I strike at England! Ho!" and licked his lips
For lust of loot and slaughter.
Then by the sea was answer made,
And down the wind this word was blown:
"Thus far! but here your steps are stayed;
England is mine, I guard my own!"
And as upon his ear this challenge fell,
Out of the deep there also fell upon it, or
Close in the neighbourhood, a singing shell
From H.M. Mersey Monitor.
And just as old Canute (or Knut)
Stopped not to parley when he found
His line of exit nearly cut,
But moved his feet to drier ground,
So too that other Monarch, much concerned
About his safety, looked no longer foam-ward,
But said, "This sea's too much for me," and turned
Strategically home-ward.
Scene: A Mothers' Meeting.
"They do say as this old Keyser or Geyser or whatever 'e calls 'isself be goin' to 'op it."
"Afraid of 'is life, if t'other side should win—that it?"
"Likely 'e is—an' well may be. T'other side be our side in that case, bain't it?"
"That's it. An' it's 'im for 'isself an' the rest for theirselves, from what I can see."
"Tey old Keyser, 'e's to blame for most ev'rythin' happenin' nowadays. Reg'lar firebran' in our midst, 'e do seem."
"Daresay 'e was drove to it, if we could but see all."
"Some woman nagged 'im into it—if you ask me."
"They do say 'e craves for peace with 'is whole mind."
"Parson 'e says on Sunday as the hypocrit' cries for peace where there is no peace."
"That's it. An' it's 'im for 'isself an' the rest for theirselves, from what I can see."
"This war seems to take people out of their true selves, makin' of 'em ravenin' beasts."
"Men, too, as otherwise acts quiet an' well-meanin' enough. You 'eard what Doctor done?"
"What 'e done?"
"Not to old Sally's son, Jim?"
"'Im as 'urted is 'and blackberry time—a year ago this very month?"
"'Im. Ill unto death, 'e were, with blood poisonin', and 'e says what a shockin' state 'is blood must 'ave been in for the poison to serve 'im so."
"An' old Sally been a-keepin' of 'im ever since. 'Er needle been at it reg'lar, but 'ardly earnin' a livin' wage owin' to the meanness of them who 'as it to pay."
"An' a poisoned and, when the worst be over, ain't no bar to the appetite."
"Glad she's been to do it sooner than lose 'im, as she lost 'is brother with 'oopin'-cough."
"That must be a matter of twenty-five year ago—before ever Jim was born."
"You ain't told us yet, dear, what Doctor done."
"I'm comin' to that. Jim, 'e's not without 'is uses an' 'e's more time, like, to read the paper than the other men. So 'e reads the news an' tells it all over at Plough an' Orses' nights, an' they do say the way 'e urges of the men to 'list is somethin' wonderful."
"Not thinkin' of goin' 'isself, of course?"
"Ain't 'e 'ad a poisoned 'and? Still, this 'e did; to a lot of chaps as as 'eld back 'e says—'If you goes to Doctor to be examined I'll go with you,' 'e says—could a man do more? 'I tell you you honest,' 'e says, 'that with my poor 'and I'm a man marked down for stayin' at 'ome, worse luck. What would I give,' 'e says, 'to go forth in the pride of 'ealth, same as you? Still, I'll go to Doctor with the rest of you, if only to show 'ow these things should be done.'"
"Ow many went ?"
"Three in all, includin' of Jim. 'E led the way up to Doctor's surgery, then 'e waved the others in front of 'im. 'Take the sound men first, Sir,' 'e says, 'an' then, it you'll spare me a minute, I'll take it kind.'"
"What did Doctor do?"
"Doctor 'e does as Jim says and takes 'im last, after tellin' the other two as they were better at 'ome. 'I been waitin' for you,' 'e says, an' 'e turned on Jim that fierce as never was. 'A 'and as 'as been perfectly well for the last six months to my certain knowledge ain't goin' to prevent you fightin',' he says, 'so off you go an' 'list.'"
"Poor old Sally! No one to work for now but just 'erself, then?"
"War be an awful thing, it seems, for raisin' the wicked passions in peaceful men. Keyser, Geyser—whatever 'e calls 'isself—and our old Doctor... it be all the same."
Extract from Fortress Orders at Malta:—
"A box containing butchers' implements, and marked with a red cross. Finder should communicate with the D.D.M.S., 28, Strada Britannica, Valletta."
If we did not happen to know through our Secret Intelligence Bureau that D.D.M.S. stands for Deputy Director of Medical Services we should suspect that the Germans had been once more using the sign of the Red Cross as screen for their barbarities.
