The craze for substitutes has spread so extensively that there have been some unpleasant results both for the purchaser and the producer, as was the case with several bakers, who were finally detected and convicted of a liberal use of sawdust in their cakes.

Germany has worked especially hard to find a substitute for indiarubber, though with only moderate success.  I know that the Kaiser’s Government is still sending men into contiguous neutral countries to buy up every scrap of rubber obtainable.  In no other commodity has there been more relentless commandeering.  When bicycle tyres were commandeered—­the authorities deciding that three marks was the proper price to pay for a new pair of tyres which had cost ten—­there was a great deal of complaining.  Nevertheless, without an excellent reason, no German could secure the police pass necessary to allow him to ride a bicycle.  Those who did obtain permission to ride to and, from their work had to select the shortest route, and “joy-riding” was forbidden.

“Substitute rubber” heels for boots could be readily obtained until the late summer, but after that only with difficulty.  They were practically worthless, as I know from personal experience, and were as hard as leather after one or two days’ use.

Despite the rubber shortage, the Lower Saxon Rubber Company, of Hildersheim, does a thriving business in raincoats made from rubber substitutes.  The factory is running almost full blast, all the work being done by women, and the finished product is a tribute to the skill of those in charge.

It is impossible to buy a real tennis hall in the German Empire to-day.  A most hopeless makeshift ball has been put on the market, but after a few minutes’ play it no longer keeps its shape or resiliency.

Germany has been very successful in the substitution of a sort of enamelled-iron for aluminium, brass, and copper.  Some of the Rhenish-Westphalian iron industries have made enormous war profits, supplying iron chandeliers, stove doors, pots and pans, and other articles formerly made of brass to take the place of those commandeered for the purpose of supplying the Army with much-needed metals.

For copper used in electrical and other industries she claims to have devised substitutes before the war, and her experts now assert that a two-years’ supply of copper and brass has been gathered from the kitchens and roofs of Germany.  The copper quest has assumed such proportions that the roof of the historic, world-renowned Rathaus at Bremen has been stripped.  Nearly half the church bells of Austria have found their way to the great Skoda Works.

Of course Germans never boast of the priceless ornaments they have stolen from Belgium and Northern France.  They joyfully claim that every pound of copper made available at home diminishes the amount which they must import from abroad, and pay for with their cherished gold.