TWO FABLES FOR TO-DAY.

Pukekohe & Waiuku Times, Volume 6, Issue 274, 11 May 1917, Page 2 (Supplement)

TWO FABLES FOR TO-DAY.

By THORPE LEE.

(From the London Daily Chronicle.)

Tho war had lasted for many years, autumn i.nd winter people sa'd: "Ah, thero'll be a great push in the spring. That'll settle it." Every .spring and summer each side told itself: "Can't last lx>yond tho beginning of another winter." Yet still tho war went on. Of course, the armies had become smaller. This was for two reasons. One was exhaustion of man-power; tho other, and tho more powerful reason, was that every year the services in the rear claimed more and more mon. Tho number of organ'sers had increased steadily at a progressive ratio every year of tho wax. There were organisers for everything; and over them super-organisers. Largo numbers of tho ablest men obtainable were solely engaged in organising organisation. The size of their secretarial, accountant, and supervisory staffs grew ana grew and grew. The buildings in which all these staffs typed and added, and in which tho organisers organised, spread and spread. At first this delighted everybody. It was reckoned a proot of energetic management.

A.s years went by all the hotels, all tho clubs, all tho spacious buildings of every kind were successively occupied. On tho stages of the theatres organisers installed the'r roll-top desks; the incessant dick of the typewriter was heard instead of tho clapping of hands. Tho counters of the shops once thronged by bargain seekers were now littered with official papers; the placo of the suave shopwalker was taken by the uniformed civilian, dong civil work in a soldierly disguise. All parks and open spaces were made hideous by mushroom offices. Tho growth of these fungoids was impossible to check. Every organiser's fmrt idea was to assemble as largo a staff as possible. They were like mediaeval barons, each with h's own littlo army. Every official wag ticketed "indispensable." Tho assurance was repeatedly given that without them the war could not go on.

At last there came a day when there was only one soldier left on each side. All the rest of the man-power of the combatants was employed inorganising:. Tho two soldiers left on the front used to exchange a few shots occasionally. Neither knew the state of affairs on the other side. But on a certain fine morning tho tediousneßs and loneliness of their ta6k overcamo each of them at tho same moment. Each left his trench determined to break the monotony, even though the adventure should end in capture or death. They met in No Man's Land. Over a pipo they discussed the conditions of an armist'ee. Then they each went home. Tho organisers were shocked, and tried to persuade them to go back to their trenches, but it was no use. Tho war was at an end. Moral: All very well if both sides do it, but how if one sido continually increases its rear services, while tho other sido puts every available man into tho field? That is the risk to bear in mind.

There was once a time of scarcity in all lands. Foodstuffs ran short. Tho necessaries of life were dear, and hard to come by. Those who were careful husbanded well their resources. They put themselves upon fixed rations. * They "said: " This may and probably will bo worse before it is better. Tkrcfore, if we hope to escape bitter privation and suffering we must look ahead and take measures accordingly." Thero was one land where this foresight was neglected. The people of that land were not given to taking thought for tho morrow. They had been long under the spell of a prophet who preached to them always The policy of "Wait and See." They had a belief that they could always somehow "muddle through" thoir difficulties. Therefore they ate and drank very much as usual. "Lot o' fussy nonsense," they snorted, when measures were proposed for making their supplies last as long as possible. Others might have " meatless days" and card systems. They had never bothered with such things and wouldn't now.

The result was that ono day they suddenly became aware that they were on tho edge of starvation. They were furious, and their fury wreaked itself upon the governing men who had, they complained, "let thorn down." Their sufferings were pitiful, and worst of all, they could not continue a war in which they were engaged. They were forced to submit to a dishonourable peace. And they said to themselves miserably: "If only we had known. . ." Moral: Obvious.