But things are changed. To-day I had a tussle With some low scion of an upstart line; Meagre his intellect, absurd his muscle, I should have strafed him in the days long syne; I took a First, and he could hardly parse; I have more eloquence but he more stars; Yet (so insane the ordinance of Mars) I must say "Yessir," and salute the swine. And it was hard when that abrupt Staff-Major Up to the firing-line one evening came (Unknown his motive, probably a wager), And said quite rudely, "You are much to blame; Those beggars yonder you should enfilade." I fingered longingly a nice grenade; I said those beggars were our First Brigade, But might not call him any kind of name. Yet not for ever shall the bard be muted By stars and stripes, but freely, as of yore, When swords are sheathed and I'm civilian-suited, I shall have speech with certain of my corps, Speak them the insults which I now but brood: "Pompous," "incompetent," "too fond of food," And fiercely taste the bliss of being rude And unrestrained by Articles of War. That will be great; but what if such intentions Are likewise present in the Tenth Platoon? What if some labourer of huge dimensions Meet me defenceless in a Tube saloon, And hiss his catalogue of unpaid scores, How oft I criticised his forming fours, Or prisoned him behind the Depot doors, Or kept him digging on the Fourth of June? Painful. And then, when all these armed millions Unknot with zest the military noose, Will the whole world be full of wroth civilians, Each one exulting in a tongue let loose? And who shall picture or what bard shall pen The crowning horror which awaits us then-- That civil warfare of uncivil men In one great Armageddon of abuse? * * * * * A Pluralist. The writer of a letter appearing in _The Daily Mail_ signs herself "Wife of Group 41." * * * * * [Illustration: THE QUESTION OF THE HOUR. JOHN BULL (_to himself_). "TELL YOU WHAT IT IS, MY FRIEND--YOU'VE BEEN DOING YOURSELF TOO WELL. IF YOU MEAN TO WIN THIS WAR YOU'VE GOT TO SEE WHAT YOU CAN DO WITHOUT."] * * * * * FRANK. In my first formal introduction to Frank he appeared, together with his clothing and various belongings, as an item in a list of things to be taken over. I knew him already by reputation, and I remembered some of the occasions when he had appeared on parade. Also I knew that two successive Company Commanders had managed in turn to exchange him with some unsuspecting newly appointed O.C. Company for something more tractable. This last process, indeed, accounted for my having to take him over instead of the mild creature with the duck-waddle action which my predecessor had ridden or, let me say, sat.