I twirl the handle of the telephone and listen.  There is silence.  I turn it again with vigour.  For twenty minutes I behave like an organ-grinder.  Towards dawn the bell rings and I receive an electric shock.

“Hullo!” says the operator.

I tell him what I think of him.  When I have finished the sun is up and the first aeroplane is dropping its glad bombs on the dewy earth below.

I demand PIG.  PIG is a Machine Gun Company.  By breakfast-time I have discovered that PIG has salvaged socks, German, one.

I ring up Division ...

It is a splendid force, as they used to say in The Message from
Mars—­it is a splendid force, the Signal Service.

And men sleeping among the rats in the front line wake for their coffee and hot water and envy me my undisturbed nights.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  New Tenant (digging up lawn and waste ground, to agent).  “CAN YOU INFORM ME WHERE I CAN FIND THE MAN WHO OWNED THIS PLACE BEFORE ME?”

House Agent.  “ER—­HE’S IN FRANCE.”

Tenant.  “UM.  WELL, I HOPE HE COMES BACK.  SAFELY!”]

* * * * *

“The Vienna Die Zeit considers the political crisis in Germany as one of the chief consequences of the political utterances of English, American and French statesmen, demanding the demoralisation of Germany.”—­Sunday Times.

It seems superfluous.

* * * * *

“It is authoritatively announced that the American troops fighting in France will very shortly receive steel helmets, the design of the helmets being very similar to those worn by the French and British forces, but bearing, as insignia, the United States coat of mail.”—­Daily Graphic.

Head-protection is very necessary, but isn’t this rather overdoing it?