That this economy and savings idea has gone home to high and low was proved by an incident that happened while I was in London.  A man appeared before a certain well-known judge to ask for payment out of a sum of money that stood to his credit for compensation to “buy clothes.”  The judge reprimanded him sharply, saying, “Are you not aware that one of the principal War Don’ts is, ’Don’t buy clothes:  wear your old ones.’” With this he held up his own sleeve which showed considerable signs of wear.  Then he added:  “If I can afford to wear old garments, you can.  Your application is dismissed.”

With saving has come a spirit of sacrifice as this incident shows:  A London household comprising father, mother and two children moved into a smaller house, thus saving fifty dollars a year.  By becoming teetotalers they saved another five shillings (one dollar and a quarter) and on clothes the same weekly sum.  They took no holiday this summer:  ate meat only three times a week, abstained from sugar in their tea, cut down short tramway rides, and the father reduced his smoking allowance.  By these means they have been able to buy a War Savings Certificate every week.

Just as no sum has been too small to save, so is no act too trivial to achieve some kind of conservation.  People are urged to carry home their bundles from shops.  This means saving time and labour in delivery and permits the automobile or wagon to be used in more important work.  I could cite many other instances of this kind.

Even the children think and write in terms of economy.  At the annual meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science held last summer at Newcastle, an eminent doctor read a paper on “London Children’s Ideas of How to Help the War.”  The replies to his questions, which were sent to more than a thousand families, all indicated that the juvenile mind was thoroughly soaked with the savings idea.  Some of the answers that he quoted were very humorous.  A boy in Kensington gave the following reasons: 

“Eat less and the soldiers get more:  If you make a silly mistake in your arithmetic tell your mother not to let you have any jam, and put the money saved in the War Loan:  Stop climbing lamp-posts and save your clothes:  Don’t wear out your boots by striking sparks on the kerbstones:  If you buy a pair of boots you are a traitor to your country, because the man who makes them may keep a soldier waiting for his:  Don’t use so much soap:  Don’t buy German-made toys.”

The net result of this mobilisation of the forces of thrift is that up to January the first 50,000,000 War Certificates had been sold, representing an investment of nearly 40,000,000 pounds or approximately $200,000,000.  The striking feature about this large sum is that it was reared with the coppers of working men and women.  “Serve by Saving” in England has become more than a phrase.

All this was not achieved, however, without the most persistent publicity.  England to-day is almost one continuous bill board.  The hoardings which blazed with the appeal for recruits and the War Loan now proclaim in word and picture the virtues of saving and the value of the now familiar War Certificates.  Likewise they embody a spectacular lesson in thrift for everybody.