June 15, 1917. NORTH 
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your bread ration, man,’ “What did 
you think it was?” 
“Why,” said the man, “I thought it was to put under 
my pillow.” 
Think of one of our brave lads going “over the top” 
hungry! In very truth, if you eat that extra pound of 
bread you are eating the flesh from the bones of our 
soldiers. 
Look at the blade of your breadknife, and see if it 
does not run with blood! 
‘And remember that if you eat your fill now, not only 
shall we at home and they at the front want bread, but 
they will want shells. You cannot expect starving men 
and women to work, In those dreadful six weeks the 
stream of munitions from Britain to the front will cease 
to flow. 
There will come a moment, perhaps, in the hour of 
absolute victory, when the thunder of our artillery will 
die down. And why; and why? Because you ate that 
pound of bread. . 
Wasting a Crust Wilful Murder 
Will your little ones get their piece o’ bread when 
they cry for it in those bad six weeks? Or will you have 
to say or think, “Because 1 could not spare when I had 
enough, my little ones now lack bread?” Will our soldiers 
get their piece? 
To ask you to avoid waste seems an insult. Surely 
there is not one of you today who throws away a crust or 
a crumb! That would be wilful murder. 
I have told you how to make puddings of “crusts” — 
if there are “crusts” left over, which, says Mrs. Lauder, 
there should never be. For the sake of your common 
sense as much as for the sake of your common humanity 
1 am sure that never a crust goes now into the dustbin. 
But if there ever should, remember as you throw 
away the precious piece to repeat your Devil’s orison: 
“There goes the life of a British soldier! Amen!” 
Now, while bread is essential, it is not necessary that 
it should all be wheaten bread. Thére are many substi- 
tutes. Many a Scots plowman lives almost entirely on 
oatcake ; and, as I have told you, oatcake is quite easy to 
bake. 
Porridge for Breakfast 
Some of you may be too busy to bake, and to meet 
your need I think all bakers should sell plenty of oatcakes 
and bannocks, as well as the regulation breads. Then you 
should all eat porridge for breakfast—as if that were a 
sacrifice ! 
quoth the sergeant. 
I have often lived a whole glorious day on parritch, 
hot and parritch cold: © You can do much with maize 
(Indian corn). You can do much with rice. 
Lentils, beans and dried peas are dear now, I know, 
but some of you can do much with these. Use your wits, 
and let our bakers use theirs. 
Our supply of meat will not run short. Unless the 
SHORE BREEZE and Reminder jy 
unexpected happens we have enough beasts in the country 
to guard against that. 
And if only you will economize and use substitutes— 
such as oatmeal, barley, meal and flour, maize meal, rice 
and so on our wheat supply will hold out, too, Will 
you? 
One Little Thing More 
You know that, like so many others, I have given to 
the country what I held dearest in the world—I have 
given my son. Now the authorities ask me for one thing, 
one little thing more. They need my services in this most 
serious time. 
I would gladly go to fight. If for that I am not fit 
I would gladly work anywhere in France or at home. 
But they ask me merely to help them (as they ask you 
to help them) in this campaign. By God, I will. 
We that have lost our own flesh and blood, we that 
have paid the price of victory, shall we be robbed of it for 
the sake of a pound of bread? 
You are asked to make a sacrifice. The sacrifice is 
not so much the foregoing of so much bread, but the con- 
stant care and vigiliance necessary to avoid waste. Is it 
anyhow to be compared with the constant care and vigil- 
ance of our soldiers to avoid death? 
But this is your chance to show your quality. At 
this crucial moment you are asked to share a communion 
of sacrifice and victory. 
Now cut your loaf! 
(Reprinted from Boston Herald) 
HE, thinking faculty, the intellect, is one of mankind’s 
most wonderful gifts, yet one that seldom is made use 
of to the fullest extent. Most minds are lazy, have to be 
driven, at least at times. New Englanders of old were 
spoken of far and wide as being forehanded, It was a 
habit of many of them to have resources in advance of 
their needs or necessities, they stocked up with things to 
be used in emergencies. Valuable as is this New England 
trait of forehandedness, even better equipped is he who 
is foreminded, who thinks ahead, throws his mind before. 
Don’t wait until you are on the brink of trouble before 
thinking how to get out of it. How familiar is the ex- 
cuse of children, “I didn’t think!” But are not most of 
the errors and failures of grown-ups due to that very 
same omission? Not bothering with thinking may be a 
permissible vacation pastime, but at other times what a 
profitless disuse of the most wonderful and _ serviceable 
of created organs, the brain of man!—The Three Partners. 
When a man’s mind is made up, his feet must set out 
on the way.—Yeats. 
Every day that is born into this world comes like a 
burst of music, and rings itself all the day through; and 
thou shalt make, of it a dance, a dirge, or a life march, as 
thou wilt.—Carlyle. 
| Got Them on the Run 
Bought my coal direct from the mines the Fall of 1915, when price was right, enabling me to offer 
Bedding, Tub, Tomato, Lettuce, Egg, Pepper, Cabbage 
and other plants at my usual 
BEFORE WAR TIME PRICES 
Visit my new establishment—on the same street—just a little nearer Wenham line 
NORTH SHORE NURSERIES & FLORIST CO., Beverly Farms, Mass. 
Telephone, 43 
F. E, COLE, Prop. 
