ng his friends waited for word from Giffin, little Giffin
of Tennessee. But there came only the news of a terrible battle with
Johnston, where indeed every man was needed.

And little Giffin? Little Giffin never wrote.

But I'd rather have one loyal Giffin, in a nameless grave on a southern
battle field, than all the cowardly men who would fawn around me if I
were a king.

Now I'll read you a little poem which tells better than I can the story
of brave little Giffin of Tennessee.

_The Ballad of Agincourt_

By telling the story and giving some explanation of difficult terms, we
are often able to create an interest in poems that would otherwise
remain unread. The best of old English ballads are so full of martial
spirit that they may well prove an inspiration to many a boy in these
days when war has so recently rent the whole world and proved the
courage of our own young men. Back of the action that brought bloodshed
and suffering is a spirit of loyalty, a genuine patriotism that is as
much needed now as when it animated the souls of the British soldiery in
those days of long ago. It is part of our inheritance, and may not be
forgotten. It is to be hoped that we may never need it again amid the
smoke and carnage of the battlefield, or in the silent horror of the
trenches, but we have each for himself conflicts to wage with foes more
insidious than the armed forces of rival nations, and we can win them
only by the same spirit of devotion that brought victory at Agincourt.
_The Ballad of Agincourt_ (Volume V, page 95), is followed by notes that
make clear its historical setting, but a few comments may help to a
better appreciation of the inspirational value of the selection.

It is natural that in verses written about three hundred years ago there
should be found some crudities in style, some lapses in syntax, and not
a few words strange to us or having a meaning somewhat different from
their present significance. Among such lapses in syntax we find the
slight confusion of tenses in the first stanza, caused in the poet's
mind by the necessity of making a rhyme for France, though this might
have been obviated by writing "stands" for "stood" and using the present
tense throughout. The necessities of rhyme troubled Drayton not a
little: he must pronounce "Agincourt" as it is written to rhyme with
"sort," which, by the way, is not a perfect rhyme for "fort" in the
sixth stanza, and "great" does not rhyme with "seat" no