IS! me d for Are you one of the thousands of men and women who know the immeasurable satisfaction that comes with each succeeding purchase of True Shape Have you experienced its shimmering softness, its sturdy strength, its trim style? Are you among those who congratulate themselves on its remarkable appearance as it comes back week after week from the laundry and realize that built-in quality such as this deserves its price? Or do you buy just hosiery? True Shape Hosiery-men's pure silk, 75c. up; other grades in silk lisle as low as 40c. Women's silk lisle, 50c. up; fibre silk, 85c. up; pure silk, $1.15 to $1.75. Ask your dealer for True Shape. If he hasn't it, write us and we will tell you of one who can supply you. TRUE SHAPE HOSIERY CO. Buy W.S.S WAR SAVINGS STAMPS ISSUED BY THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT Help to Win the War TH HE commanding place in the clothing trade of nearly every city is held by one store by virtue of the class of goods in which it deals. This store is rated by the best dressed men as "Style Headquarters." It is the first place they think of going to. "Style Headquarters' sells Society Brand Clothes because the management knows that Society Brand attracts the most desirable trade. That these clothes are bought by men who want hand tailored clothes and want them without the fuss and uncertainty of the custom tailor's way. By men who want the premier styles and want them first. By men who count it wasteful to pay less than Society Brand prices for clothing that can never fit so well nor wear so long. For your guide and safe-guard look for the label CURRENT POETRY The trenches usually avoids any theme HE soldier-poet in his songs from that savors of "shop." One reason for this, we are told, is because the soldier seeks relief in verse from the wearing monotony of war, a monotony broken only by the brief burst of battle. Here, however, are a sheaf of poems direct from the trenches which deal with war, and war as the soldier sees it. We quote a reflection of war's monotony as it appears to a British private, from The Westminster Gazette. poppy red Are set apart for silent hosts, the legions of the dead. And when at night on sentry-go, with danger keeping tryst, I see upon the crucifix the blood-stained form of Christ, Defiled and maimed, the Merciful, on vigil all the time, Pitying His children's wrath, their passion and their crime. Mute, mute, He hangs upon His Cross, the symbol of His pain, And as men scourged Him long ago, they scourge Him once again There in the lonely war-lit night to Christ the Lord I call: "Forgive the ones who work Thee harm. O Lord! forgive us all." Here is a poem, written in Flanders, by an officer as he watched some of "Kitcheners Mob" marching into battle for the first time. It appeared in the New York Times: THE NEW ARMY BY LIEUT.-COL. J. C. FAUNTHORPE A bleak northeaster chilled the blood, The driven rain was cold as sleet. Over the cobblestones the mud Lay thick along the sordid street: Under a lowering leaden sky, Singing a music-hall refrain, A Kitchener brigade went by Marching through Merville in the rain. Young men and strong, and some will die By bullet, shrapnel, bomb, and mine, Torn by the shreds of steel that fly From four-point-two and five-point-nine; The poison-gases' choking breath Others will feel, and it may be That some will suffer, worse than death, I could not hear the words they sang. I did not recognize the song, But clear to any listener rang The meaning-"Now we sha'n't be long"; At last they heard the sounds of war, Parades and field-days now were done, To eager ears the blizzard bore The grumble of the German gun. Under a brighter, warmer sky I fancied I could hear and see The Roman gladiators cry, The new battalions marched away- The simple song they sang that day Marching through Merville in the rain. The Harpers have published a collection of poems by American soldiers in France called "Songs from the Trenches." From it comes this song of the airmen: AVIATION BY PRIVATE RALPH LINTON We are youth's heart made visible, who rise On gleaming wings to greet the splendid sun, Weary of earth's slow certainties, and run Jousts with the elements to show our pride. Last and most chosen chivalry, we meet From the same collection we take this touching tribute to the comrade who has passed on: THERE IS A CLOSE BY MAURICE BOURGEOIS DU MARAIS Base Hospital No. 10 There is a close that overlooks the sea, Save for the rooks' sad cawing. Here at will Wanton the errant winds of Normandy. Within are crosses, rear'd in ebony, The first of us, the sealing of the bond. Together now through battle and beyond. This is a very different treatment of a similar theme, but it rings true, the authentic touch of the "rookie" lamenting his pal. It comes from a trade paper, the New York Tobacco. NEAR NO MAN'S LAND BY PRIVATE B. A. SCHAK There wa'n't no bugler there a-blowin' taps; the I showed 'im how to do "right shoulder arms' An' told him all a doughboy oughta know; No Man's Land," beneath the mud He said 'is ma an' sister back at home I hate to think o' how 'is mother feels- This writin' business ain't much in my line. I don't know what to do when I'm off post. My Buddy's gone; an' seems like all I know I'd like to put a flower on 'is grave Near "No Man's Land," beneath the mud and snow. This from The Westminster Gazette is by an unknown author. SUDDENLY ONE DAY (Found in the pocket of Capt. T. P. C. Wilson, killed in action) Suddenly one day The last ill shall fall away. The last little beastliness that is in our blood Shall drop from us as the sheath drops from the And the great spirit of man shall struggle through Man will see God, staring back at him. The London Graphic gives us these noble lines. COMMUNION BY GEOFFREY F. FYSON You ghosts of those who fell With hearts still flush'd with the first ecstasies, Ever your wistful, unapparent eyes Peer thro each darken'd doorway, and your hands, Hover, and strive to touch us in the street; Ever the soundless feet Follow, and leave no trace upon the sands. Tho no dim voices speak, Foil'd by your blood and ours, Death can not seal When Honor handed us her flame-white sword, Sped to the hills to greet the refulgent day. In his "Glory of the Trenches" (John Lane Company, New York), Coningsby Dawson gives us this poem, with its sudden, unexpected climax: IN HOSPITAL BY LIEUT. CONINGSBY DAWSON Sisters swift and saintly Seem to tread on grass; Like flowers stirring faintly, Heads turn to watch them pass. Beauty, blood, and sorrow, In this half-way house of France. Sounds of whispered talking, "CAMPING OUT" UNDER FIRE WITH FROM one point of view, this war resembles a stupendous camping-out party, the most stupendous camping-expedition in history. Of course, there are differences, as the correspondent who makes the comparison hastens to point out. He writes in the Newark Evening News: You know how it is when you go camping. You look about for a place by a lake, a river, or a spring, if possible, where you can get your own water, and then you arrange so that some cozy little village is near, or at least a good farm, where you can get a chicken or a potato or an apple now and then. The idea is to locate in a country where nice open fields. woods, hills, a stream or two will offer you pleasure through the summer day, bird-song, play, and repose. Here you find your best luck in avoiding anything in the nature of water. You get as far away from its awful taint as you can. You don't wash. You drink not. The cozy village you steer shy of for it isn't cozy. What is cozy about little or But the correspondent's lugubrious picture is rebuked by the retort of a Yankee private whom the writer met on the battlefield, and to whom he evidently made remarks much like those above. "Don't you complain about my war," said the doughboy. "It's the only war I've got." The correspondent resumes, in a some- No, we'll take it as it is. Where would we rather have had them DETACHABLE WEATHERPROOF Detroit All-Season Tops change Detroit Weatherproof Tops are designed along luxurious lines; built of the best material obtainable; finished inside and out with infinite care. But, the price, high quality considered, is astonishingly low. Buy now! A little later traffic conditions may make deliveries uncertain, if not impossible. Ask any Hudson, Maxwell, Largest All-Season Top Pontiac Michigan U. S. A. 37 |