iss all your neighbours,
And hear the wind play
His pipes and his tabors
Along the king's way.

From the elms at the corner the rooks tumble out
To dance you Sir Roger in clamorous rout;
For all honest people
There's gold on the whin,
And bells in the steeple,
And ale at the inn.

The brewer's brown horses, they shine in the sun,
And each of the team must weigh nearly a ton.
They stamp and they sidle,
Their great necks they arch,
And snatch at the bridle
This morning of March.

For Winter is over, you see the fine sights--
The geese on the common, the boys flying kites,
The daffydowndillies
That stoop on the stem,
And my pretty Phyllis
Who's gathering them.

* * * * *

SIGNERS OF THE TIMES.

Ralston came into the railway carriage with a fountain-pen and a huge
sheet of official-looking paper.

"Pardon my intrusion," he said. "This is a non-party business. I am just
getting a few signatures----"

"Don't apologise, Sir," interrupted Baffin. "I am delighted to see a
young man like you working in such a cause. Every loyal Englishman,
unless blindly ignorant or filled with Radical spite, will be delighted
to sign it."

Grabbing the fountain-pen he scribbled the imposing signature, "James
Baffin, Hughenden, Tulse Hill."

"It doesn't involve any financial responsibility?" enquired Macdougal
with a touch of national caution.

"Not in the least. You just sign," replied Ralston.

Down went the name of Luke Macdougal.

Wilcox had to have his attention drawn to the petition because he
pretended to be absorbed in _The Times_--reading it with the attachment
of an old subscriber, though we all knew he had only taken it for two
days.

"Of course," said Wilcox, "at the present moment I could not think of
taking any active part in military operations myself, but I am sure my
son-in-law----"

"You are not supposed to do anything but sign," said Ralston.

"Certainly, certainly, I'll be very pleased to sign. My son-in-law is a
most determined young fellow and feels most strongly on this point."

And Mr. Wilcox amiably offered up his son-in-law as a vicarious
sacrifice.

Dodham was a little dubious. "You see I'm not a politician," he began.

"Politics have nothing to do with it," said Ralston.

"No one, Sir, but an abject coward," broke in Baffin, "would shrink