A.D., 1916.

Observer, Volume XXXVII, Issue 25, 24 February 1917, Page 20

A.D., 1916.

The sky shows cold where the roof has been, lint the stars of night are none the. dimmer, Where the home once stood are the " '■'•ruins seen, But the brazier glows with a cheery glimmer. And the old life goes and the now life fills The scenes of many a peasant story. And the bursting shells on the sentried hills Whisper of death but shout of glory! 'Chitted 1 land ripped) the.' stricken earth, Where the bones of the. restless dead are showing; But the great earth breathes of life and birth. And ruin shrinks from the blossoms blowing. The old life fails, but the new life conies Over the ruins scarred and hoary, Though the thunder of guns and the roll of drums But made for death while they shout of glory. Patbick McGii,l, The "Navvy" Poet

He was. a very dirty little boy, so dirty, indeed, that his condition was discernible by smell as well as by sight. His teacher felt bound to communicate this fact to his mother, and strove to rouse that person to a sense of maternal duty. But the mother had a still stronger sense of a County Council teacher's duty, , and, while admitting the allegation against her offspring, replied: "My Ikey ain't a rose. But don't smell him learn him." & e$ © Some people are too literal for anything. A young man gave a graphic description of a narrow escape that he had recently had from an enraged bull. "1 seized him by the tail,"'he exclaimed, "an' there. I was. I was afraid to hold on, and I dare, not let go." "Between the horns of a dilemma, as it were," ventured a young lady, very much interested. "No," replied the young man; "I wasn't between the horns at all; an* besides, he wasn't a dilemma; he was a Jersey." ® ® <S) Before a great shop in Oxford Street, London, over a hundred women stood rapt in. silent admiration of hats and blouses. Suddenly panic spread among them from the roadway inwards. Screams and scuffling ended in a wild rush. Some of the. shoppers were nearly pushed through the glass. Others, regardless of risks of woman-slaughter, darted in front of omnibuses and taxicabs. In a few moments the pavement was clear. Two boys with a live mouse had somehow dropped it, and in the chase it,, had dashed across the road into the' crowd. In default of chairs and tables, the more energetic of the women clambered on to the passing vehicles. Their struggles held, up the!traffic. When the excitement had subsided the mouse and the boys had disappeared. ' ,' •® ©■•■' *.;.; Some players who have established reputations as comediani on the stage, find on turning to the screen that their natural trend is,,towards drama. Mr Lew Fields, who, with his partner, Joe was one ■of the best known comedians in America, has experienced this. When he was first engaged in screen workit was to produce comedies, but since joining the World Company he has enacted a drama entitled "The Man Who Stood Still." Fields proves himself a character actor on much the same order as Albert Chevalier. It will be remembered that when Chevalier was appearing in "My Old Dutch," Fields was engaged in a somewhat similar piece entitled "Old Dutch." <© ® © . The food problem in Great Britain is a Tory serious one, and if the submarine menace increases, will become still more serious. Real privation may yet have to be borne, and useless luxuries still further curtailed. This may eTen take place in New Zealand before the war is over Rotorua " Chronicle."