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I I BOOKS AND MAGAZINES. 0-

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I I BOOKS AND MAGAZINES. 0- I COULDN'T HAVE MISSED IT. I The average foreigner (says "Everybody'. Magazine") can rarely comprehend the geographical area of the United States, as was quite fully illustrated by the Englishman and his valet who had been travelling due west from Boston for five days. At the end of the fifth day master and servant were seated in the smoking-car, and it was observed that the man was gazing steadily and thoughtfully out of the window. Finally his companion became curious. "William," said he, of what are you thinking?" "I was just thinking, sir, about the dis- covery of Hamerica," replied the valet. "Columbus didn't do such a wonderful thing, after all, when he found this country, did he, now, sir? Hafter hall's said an' done, 'ow could 'e 'elp it?" I NATURE'S BARRIERS IN EAST AFRICA I suppose there are few parts of the world which nature has made more difficult to the intruder than German East Africa (writes "A Soldier's Wife," in the "Cornhill Magazine "). In the forest the thorny creepers join tree to tree in close high wall's until the very stars— man's only guide-are hidden, nearly all the trees also are a-bristlo with protecting spears, sharp as needles to pieroe and tear the flesh, and to leave behind, it may be, a poisoned festering sore. Mountain ranges throw their boulders and tear their gaping chasms in the way, the streams, too few and far between for thirsty man, are torrents to be crossed on fallen logs, on slimy boulders where one sees the sudden agony flash in the eyes of a laden mule that slips, and with a struggle of frantic hoofs is tossed to death. A herd of elephants crashes like thunder through the scrub, trum- peting their suspicion of man's presence, the lions prowling unheard startle with a sudden hungry roar and seek their meat from God. Then come the swamps where the crocodile lies in the slime, and snakes coil, and the mosquito goes about its deadly work. Men sink to their waists in mud, the transports break down —all are tried in vain, ox waggons, mule carts, motor-cars, "and then we go hungry," said one man to me. Gaunt and weak, with eyes too bright for health, he smiled and spoke lightly—a least trembling of the hands, a twitch of a muscle, a look behind the smiling eyes which no laugh could quite conceal, these the "()nlv signs of the overstrained, still quiver- ing nerves. He told me the story of how the flour supply ran out, of how the pangs of hunger were eased with the flesh of donkey or rhinoceros. For eight days the hungry men waited and watched, and then a transport laden with sacks appeared—and the sacks held newspapers! i FARM LABOURERS' BREAD. I It ia one of the penalties of our ignorance of proper cooking that we have learned as a nation to rely on bulk, and that we must suffer when the weight of food is reduced (writes the Countess of Warwick, in "Cassell's Maga- zine "). The tendency of the average mother of the working classes is to see, in the first instance, that her husband has all he wants. He is the bread-winner, and even if she does not think that such a position entitles him to the first and best share of what his labour provides, she arrives at the same conclusion by a different road, believing that without the maximum of food he cannot make the maximum of effort. It is unfortunate that the limited rationing affects the staple food of the poor. The urban artisan eats far more than four pounds of bread weekly, the agricultural labourer eats from two to four pounds daily. To be sure he eats very little else cheese and onions are the usual additions Few labouring men eat less than a two-pound loaf a day, and many eat more; they want from fourteen pounds a week up to something nearer thirty than twenty. In short, the supply allotted to a man. his wife and four children in no more than many agricultural labourers can eat un- aided. I FINE FEAT OF SEAMANSHIP. I I Among many almost forgotten episodes of the war, now preserved in "'The Times' Documentary History," is the following story of the Ortega, a British steamer which, while carrying 1300 French reservists, was pursued by a German cruiser close to the western en- trance of the Straits of Magellan:— "Be it remarked that the normal speed of the Ortega is only some fourteen knots per hour, whereas the speed of the German cruiser was at least twenty-one knots per hour. Under those circumstances the master of the Ortega took a heroic resolve. He called for volunteers to assist in stoking his vessel. That appeal met with hearty response; firemen, engineers, and volunteers, stripped to the waist, set to work with a will, and the master assured me that they actually succeeded in whacking the old ship (she was built in 1906) up to a good eighteen knots. "The master headed his ship straight for the. entrance of a passage known as Nelson's Strait, and he made for the Strait at full speed, hotly pursued by the German cruiser, which kept firing at him with two hoavy bow guns. Luckily none of the shots took effect, and the Ortega succeeded in entering Nelson's Strait, where the German cruiser did not dare to follow her. In order to realise the hardihood of this action upon the part of the master of the Ortega, it must be remembered that Nelson's Strait is entirely uncharted, and that the narrow,. tortuous passage in question constitutes a veritable nightmare for navi- gators, bristling as it does with reefs and pinnacle-rocks, swept by fierce currents and tide-rips, and with the cliffs on either side eheer-to, without any anchorage. "I can speak from personal experience as to the terrifying nature of the navigation of Nelson's Strait, having once passed through it many years ago in a 6mall sealing schooner. However, the master of the Ortega managed to get his vessel safely through this dangerous passage, employing the device of sending boats ahead to sound every yard of the passage. Eventually, by a miracle of luck and good seamanship, he worked his way into Smyth's Channel without having sustained even a scratch to his plates, and finally brought his vessel to this port. When it is remembered that, as already stated, Nelson's Strait is abso- lutely uncharted, and that never before had a vessel of any size attempted that most perilous passage, it will, I think, be admitted that the captain's action in taking an 8,000-ton steamer Bafely through that passage constitutes a most notable feat of pluck and skilful seamanship; and it is reassuring to know that the old spirit of daring and of resource is still alive in our mercantile marine." "OLD BILLY IV." AND THE ETON BOYS. I Mr. B. P. W. Smyth, of Boscombe, who died recently in his ninety-seventh year, and who claimed to be tho oldest Etonian, has left some very interesting reminiscences of his school- days from 1828 to 1836, which are published in tho "Eton College Chronicle." He says:— "I can just remember George IV.'s funeral, and the hawkers in Windsor selling pamphlets entitled Life and Times of George IV.' The occasion was more like a fete day than a funeral, and when one thinks of the life that monarch led it is hardly to be wondered at. "H.M. King William, who succeeded him, old Billy IV. as he was popularly called, was quite a different man. I can see him now walking down Windsor High-street, dressed in a blue coat with brass buttons, rough beaver hat, white trousers, and top boots, just like any old farmer. He was on friendly terms with everybody, and would stop to have a chat with old Bannister, the butcher, and othpr tradesmen, and has been known to ask th<m ap to dinner at the Castle—an invitation that had to be explained by an equerry later. "He used to make the Life Guards' lives a burden to them when acting as escort, gallop- ing all the way down from London to Windsor, only changing horses once at Hounslow. The officers and men used to complain terribly of the bucketing they and their horses got. "About the latter his Majesty understood very little, and once when asked which horses he would run at Ascot said: Send the whole fleet; some of them must win.' "Directly we Eton boys caught sight of the Royal carriage we used to set off running and get hold of the old King's hand, shouting: Send down and get us a whole holiday, your Majesty,' and he would call out: Get away, you boys, get away,' and to the escort, Mind fou don't run over those boys.' Sometimes vire had our holiday."

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