Friday, December 19th, 1919. . . . Without waiting for an answer, a young :soldier suddenly burst it open, and stood in the entrance. His face was red and storm beaten, his oilskins buttoned to the neck and plastered with mud, dripped streams of dirty water into the flags, whils

blood-soaked battlefields of Europe. I heard the roar of guns and the clash of steel, the shrieks of the wounded and the dying ; I saw cities in ruins, homesteads razed to the ground. Hate reigned supreme. Old men foamed at the mouth and sent the young men to the slaughter. All

" Woodbine has just brought out a book called " Lies!" The title makes me sure that he had ix difficulty in finding - plenty of material ready to hand. I am glad to see that he thanks the war has been useful as a first-class lie-killer, Dealing with the hoary lie that war is som

not coming back—their work, just as they had left it on the table, the loud ticking of a grandfather-clock, emphasized the solitude and quiet. The lonely soldier sat by the dying stove deep in thought, his head sunk upon his hands. By and by he raised it, and looked around. He c

" I should like now to tell you how we became as it were, involved in the question of the Army and Navy Stores. One of our signatories, who wrote to me about a week before the strike broke out, said, I wish somehow or other we could get the shareholders to hear the employees' po