There was an Isle all green and fair Where milk and whisky used to flow, Where, thanks to lavish legislators, The pious cult of pigs and taters Filled with content the balmy air-- Eight little years ago! Distressful she had been, a land Of kine curtailed and burning ricks, Until we others oped our purses To rectify her feudal curses And freed the soil with generous hand-- Prior to nineteen-six. Though still the casual moonlight raid Occurred at seasons, just for joy, New brands of owners, fat and thriving, Had lost their use for cattle-driving, And agitation's artful aid Pined for its old employ. Then came the Liberals in and eyed This land where Peace had poised her wings; And "O!" said they, "how sad a smutch on Our clean United Kingdom's 'scutcheon! It is our duty to provide A Better State of Things." Eight years ago! And now we see The dogs of war about to bay; The Bill for Ruling Ireland Better (Strangely enough) has so upset her That pretty soon there ought to be The DEVLIN'S self to pay. So, when the general atmosphere Becomes opaque with flying bricks, And those who ran the Home Rule movement Bid me applaud this marked improvement, From pure politeness I shall fear To speak of nineteen-six. O. S. * * * * * BUSINESSFRIENDSHIP. Have you heard from ---- this year? Mine came last night. Of course (to keep it among ourselves) I am not going to say who ---- is beyond mentioning (for the purpose of handy reference) that he appears to have been christened Josef and that the capital from which he writes (or alleges that he writes) is associable with a high standard of musical comedy. His communication is very much underlined, very profuse of the mark of exclamation in quite unnecessary places (until, indeed, the sign begins to assume an absolutely satirical value), and very ornate with little amputated hands, all pointing out the short cut to illimitable wealth. Now you understand. The envelope was addressed, as Josef himself assures me that his future communications will be, "in the most discreet manner," and yet.... "Put it into the waste-paper basket, my dear," I said to Philippa, who had brought it in with some curiosity. "We need not open it. It is only Josef offering us another fortune." Need I say that she at once opened it?