un and fighting, the good chance and the bad,
Oh, he had also small craft, because he must have had.

Upon the skirts of battle, from Sluys to Trafalgar,
We know that there were small craft, because there always are;
Yacht, sweeper, sloop and drifter, to-day as yesterday,
The big ships fight the battles, but the small craft clear the way.

They scout before the squadrons when mighty fleets engage;
They glean War's dreadful harvest when the fight has ceased to rage;
Too great they count no hazard, no task beyond their power,
And merchantmen bless small craft a hundred times an hour.

In Admirals' despatches their names are seldom heard;
They justify their being by more than written word;
In battle, toil and tempest and dangers manifold
The doughty deeds of small craft will never all be told.

Scant ease and scantier leisure--they take no heed of these,
For men lie hard in small craft when storm is on the seas;
A long watch and a weary, from dawn to set of sun--
The men who serve in small craft, their work is never done.

And if, as chance may have it, some bitter day they lie
Out-classed, out-gunned, out-numbered, with nought to do but die,
When the last gun's out of action, good-bye to ship and crew,
But men die hard in small craft, as they will always do.

Oh, death comes once to each man, and the game it pays for all,
And duty is but duty in great ship and in small,
And it will not vex their slumbers or make less sweet their rest,
Though there's never a big black headline for small craft going west.

Great ships and mighty captains--to these their meed of praise
For patience, skill and daring and loud victorious days;
To every man his portion, as is both right and fair,
But oh! forget not small craft, for they have done their share.

Small craft--small craft, from Scapa Flow to Dover,
Small craft--small craft, all the wide world over,
At risk of war and shipwreck, torpedo, mine and shell,
All honour be to small craft, for oh, they've earned it well!

C.F.S.

* * * * *

[Illustration: TRIALS OF A CAMOUFLAGE OFFICER.

WHEN AN INSPECTING GENERAL MISTAKES A DISGUISED TRENCH FOR SOLID GROUND.]

* * * * *

OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.

_(By Mr. Punch's Staff of Learned Clerks.)_

The opening paragraph of Mr. JEFFERY FARNOL'S latest novel, _The
Definite Object_ (LOW, MARSTON), informs