DO SOMETHING.

Waipawa Mail, Volume XXXVI, Issue 7752, 22 July 1916, Page 1 (Supplement)

DO SOMETHING.

A STIRRING CALL TO FIGHT, WORK, SAVE, OR PAY. By The Right Hon. l WILLIAM CROOKS, P.C., M.P. In the tramcars of Sheffield there are i placards: “Enlist, work, pay, do something!” Now that we have conscription you ; may think tluat it is rather late in the day to urge everyone to do somethng it is not. The need is just as urgent as ever it was, and for this reason : You i cannot conscript hearty willingn®'-',, cheery optimism, grim determination, or any other of the qualities which are needed to win the wnu. Win it we will, because the boys at the front have the necessary grit, and are putting thoir whole hearts and souls into the job—hut don’t leave it all to them. Do something yourself. If you aro a conscript, then you’ll nob make a good soldier unless you undertake the job with a good grace now that tlio Country has decided that it needs you; you’ll not be doing your best unless you make up your mind t j seo tho business tlyough with a checriul countenance. The same applies to all, men and women, whether they are actually employed on war wark or not. Everyone must do something fight, work, save, pay. WHAT OUR WOMEN MIGHT HAVE SUFFERED. Do not think that we can ever repay tho heroes nit the front and' on the North Sea for what they have done for us, and for what they are still doing. It would be impossible. The hardest worker among those of us here at home, tho most lavish philanthropist, cannot hogiu to repay the self-sacrificing heroism of tho grandest men on God’s earth —tho hoys who have saved Old England from the fate of .Belgium land Franco Imagine, if you possibly can, this scene, which took place at a Belgian railway station. A train is loaded up with 500 young women, married and single, with hands outstretched and tears on their faces. They are beseech • in ga neutral friend. “Where are wo go’ngP For God’s sake tell us where wo aro going!” they cry. Those eight hundred women have never since been seen or heard of. That fate might have been suffered by our own .womenfolk. Our own homes might have been ravaged, but for the heroes whom it is our so'emn duty'to help in any and every possible way we can. OUR BOYS HAVE GIVEN SO MUCH. "How do you feel, son?” I asked, kneeling beside a stretcher on which a wounded soldier lay. during my visit to tho front. “ All right,” ho replied. “ I think I’ll bo nil right, don’t you?” “ How long is it since you were hurt?” I asked. “Four days,” ho replied; “But I’ll bo hotter when I get, my clothes off, I turned away. 1 could not look the man in tho face. I said to myself: “ What have 1 dorto that ho should giv * all that life is worth to fight for me?” Have you ever asked yourself that question? Do so. Then redouble your efforts to do something. Tlv) heroic merriment that I saw »ii every side among the troops at the front ama/zcd me. It was one thing to hear of it mul another to sea it as I saw it. There was not one atom of downheartedness anywhere. t A Tommy with the hump would he as difficult to find at the .front as camel without How they do sing, too, our lighthearted Tommies. And you must nobelieve tluat they are always singing “Tipperary” or “Keep the Home Ifircjs Burning.” Tho favourite song of all seems to he on/? with a chorus like this : Tickler’s jam, Tickler’s jam, How I love o’d Tickler’s jam ! Plum and apple in one-pound pots, Sent from Blighty in ten-ton lots. Every night wlitiu .l’in asleep I’m dreaming that 1 am Hnving tea with Kaiser Bill And Ticklers’ jam. To so.o the men going off to the firinglino is. .strangely enough, one of the. funniest sights imaginable. One might think they were on thoir way to a beanfeast. They .cram into luggage vans and label them with all manner ol nam.es. One I noticed was dubbed “Hotel do Horsebox.” THE PUP THAT ALGY BOUGHT. Next to the boundless good humour and gay optimism at the front, 1 was impressed afresh by the remarkable ming'ing of the classes which the war lias brought about. 1 used to talk to the men about it, and say: “Algy, tho Johnny from Bolton Row, is here, lighting alongside Smithy from Bethnal gTvcii.” This reminds me of a story Algy had a Bethnal Green man beside him in tho trenches. Sa'd Algy, “ You know, Tom 1 have boon to the East End inys/iSi. Oh. yes; I went there and bought a hull pup. I gave threa pounds for it, and when J got home } found io was not worth three shillings. ( “Oh. give us a fag.” Algy handed over a cigarette. “Givo us a match.” Algy passed over u match. “Algy, I was the li'okn what done von for that three quid !" —- One night at the front I was relating that storv to some ol the hoys, and one follow called out, in heartfelt tones. “Mirny, SO I DID!” " ~ , T happened to mention the word ‘■'strikes” out there, and you should hav.e seen the men’s tacos! "What do they mean i they asked me. “Do tho follows mean io get ns murdered and not give us a elianee.- 1 That is tho point. Wo must give our grent-hearled markers .every possible elianee. “Sell'” must go by the hoatd. It must lie “all for Tommy and tho . Old Country” these days Whet are YOU doing? I'ightmg, working, saving, or pay ng? j