The hero born of Thetis Had pluck enow. What then? Each hero here, whose meat is "Hard steak and harder hen," As stalwart and as fleet is As the Greek first of men! "Stroke" sets it long and steady; _That_ gladdens a true Old Blue. There's nothing hot and heady In sturdy Number Two. There are coxens sharp and ready In the Land of the Kangaroo! Go it, lads! Swing together! Push elders from their stools? Pooh! _I_ shall moult no feather; Old boys are not always old fools. Out upon jealous blether! You've learnt in the best of schools. I want to see you win, lads; Old LEO loves his cubs. If cynics growl or grin, lads, We'll drive them back to their tubs. Do you think my blood's so thin, lads, I'd diet upon cold snubs? The cynics think they're clever; Beshrew their big bow-wow! Boys, swing together ever, Steady from stroke to bow; One chain shall sever never-- The love-links round us now! * * * * * WHAT'S IN A NAME? Will someone gifted with the _nous_, Explain the "why" of Spinning House? Is it to strike with wholesome fear The thoughtless Maiden whose career Looks like a sinning one? And thus the Judge her conscience wakes, Since he, when passing sentence, takes Good care to name a _Spinning_ one? Or is it that in such a habitation, Herself a spinster more at home might feel; And in a Spinning House find occupation, Provided with a decent spinning-wheel; But there,--no matter whence it came, Or what's the meaning hidden in its name, About its destination there's no fear; And judging from a noted recent case, The Spinning House will,--it is pretty clear,-- Itself be soon sent spinning into space. * * * * * "Is a husband worth having?" asks _Woman_. One reply would be, "Well, that depends on whose husband it is." But, by the way, this view was not under consideration. * * * * * [Illustration: "ADVANCE, AUSTRALIA!" BRITISH LION. "BRAVO, BOYS!--SWING TOGETHER!!"] * * * * * A WILD WELCOME. February's reign of gloom Out of mind and sight is, Noonday darkness of the tomb, Carbon and bronchitis. Though the air is keen and chill, Cloudy though the skies are, Buoyant breaths our bosoms fill, Free from smart our eyes are. Bursting on the lengthening day Bellows March the Viking, "I have blown the fogs away; Is this to your liking?" Yes, thy voice o'er moor and mead Sets the spirits bounding, Like the Major's chartered steed At the trumpet's sounding. Welcome, roaring moon of dust, Welcome, Spring's reviver; On the race again we must Risk the wonted fiver; Fields are showing brighter green, Early buds are shooting; On the early youth is seen The new season's suiting.