"Those Little Ones"

Britain's spry, horse-loving Baron Portsea was born 82 years ago on the little island of Jersey, one of the Channel Islands. All the members of his family live there now, with 50,000 other British subjects, under Nazi overlords. They have slim pickings: no salt, jam, sweets. The potato crop goes largely to France. Coffee is made from parsnips.

Last week Lord Portsea begged the House of Lords to let him sail in a 20-ft. trawler (offered by a 77-year-old friend) with a cargo of food for the Jersey islanders. He pleaded: "It is for the children, more especially, that we plead. . . . Those little ones must perish, or worse, they must linger out their miserable lives stunted in mind and body unless we help them. . . . The task of this pleading is almost too much for me--is almost beyond me."

When Government-Spokesman Lord Snell charged Lord Portsea with "exaggerating" conditions on the Channel Islands, the Baron rose again. Said he, in his quavering voice, the Islands should never have been abandoned in the first place. "If we had held out," he cried, "the Scharnhorst and her friends could not have slunk up the Channel. . . . They say there is no hope. . . of food being sent. We can only send bombs. . . . If I could find a teller, I would divide now. Will any noble Lord tell with me against the Government?"

The 50-odd noble Lords stared motionless at the floor, while Lord Portsea waited, one hand raised. Finally he whispered: "There is no reply. On your heads be it. I beg leave to withdraw." He sat down. His old friend Viscount Bledisloe, 74, walked over and pressed his hand.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.