her stately home forgets
To cater freely for her precious pets.

On cheese and soup she feeds her priceless "Pekie"--
Stilton and Cheddar, Bortch and Cocky-leekie;
And Max, her shrill-voiced "Pom," politely begs
For his diurnal dole of new-laid eggs.

Semiramis, her noble Persian cat,
Threatens to grow inelegantly fat
Upon asparagus and Shaker oats,
With milk provided by two special goats.

Meanwhile her governess subsists on greens,
Canned conger-eel or cod and butter-beans,
And often in a black ungrateful mood
Envies the dogs and cat their daintier food.

* * * * *

"On one side was the naval guard of honour--splendid men from
the ships of the Dover Patrol--and on the other side a military
guard from the Garrison with the band of the Buffs waiting
to play President Wilson into England with 'The tar-spangled
Banner.'"--_Provincial Paper_.

A pretty compliment to the naval escort.

* * * * *

THE MUD LARKS.

Our Mr. MacTavish is a man with a past. He is now a cavalry subaltern
and he was once a sailor. As a soldier at sea is never anything but
an object of derision to sailors, correspondingly the mere idea of a
sailor on horseback causes the utmost merriment among soldiers.

"Sailors on horseback!"--the very words bring visions of apoplectic
mariners careering madly across sands, three to a horse, every limb
in convulsion. Why, it's one of the world's stock jokes.

The pathetic part of it is that, obeying the law of opposites, the
saddle has an irresistible and fatal attraction for the poor chaps.
They take to it on every possible and impossible occasion. You can see
them playing alleged polo at Malta, riding each other off at right
angles and employing their sticks as grappling irons. You can see them
over from the Rock whooping after Spanish foxes, bestriding their
steeds anywhere but in the appointed place.

As every proper farmer's boy has long, long thoughts of magic oceans,
spice isles and clipper ships, so I will warrant every normal Naval
officer dreams of a little place in the grass counties, a stableful
of long-tails and immortal runs with the Quorn and Pytchley.

It was thus with our Mr. MacTavish, anyhow. A stern parent and a
strong-armed crammer projected him into the Navy, and in the Navy
he remained for years bucketing about the salt seas in light and
wobbly cruisers, enforcing i