t on behalf of Your Majesty by
the bedside of a little English child.

* * * * *

THE OLD SOLDIER.

By a "Temporary" Sub.

There are some men--and such is Jones--
Who love to vent their antique spleens
On any subaltern that owns
He's not a soldier in his bones
(_I'_m not, by any means);
Who fiercely watch us drill our men
And tell us things were different when
(In, I imagine, 1810)
They joined the Blue Marines.

I like them not, yet I affect
That air of awed humility
Which I should certainly expect,
If I were old and medal-deck'd,
From young men under me;
But when they hint their wondrous wit
Is what has made them feel so fit
To do their military bit,
I simply can't agree.

I said to Jones--or should have said
But feared the Articles of War--
"You must not think you have a head
Because you know from A to Z
This military lore,
By years of study slowly gat
(And somewhat out-of-date at that),
When lo, I had the whole thing pat
In six small months--not more."

Maybe the mystic art appals
Unlearned souls of low degrees,
But men to whom the high Muse calls,
Men who are good enough for Smalls,
Imbibe it all with ease;
While where would Jones, I wonder, be
If someone took the man for me
And asked him for some _jeu d'esprit_,
A few bright lines (like these)?

Possibly Jones will one day tire
Of fours and fights and iron shards,
Will seize his pencil and aspire
To court the Muse and match the fire
Of us poetic cards;
Then I shall mock his meagre strain
And gaily make the moral plain,
How barren is the soldier's brain
Compared with any bard's.

* * * * *

A QUESTION OF THE NUDE.

They scrambled into the carriage in a tremendous hurry, all talking at
once at the tops of their voices, all very excited and very dirty. They
had mud on their boots which had evidently come from France, and their
overcoats had that rumpled appearance which distinguishes overcoats from
the Front from those merely in training.

There seemed to be about ten of them as they got into the train, but
when they had deposited various objects on the rack, such as rifles,
haversacks, and kit-bags like partially deflated airships, the number
resolved itself into three.

The compartment already contained--besides myself--a naval war