[Illustration: _Major-General_ (_addressing the men before practising an attack behind the lines_). "I WANT YOU TO UNDERSTAND THAT THERE IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A REHEARSAL, AND THE REAL THING. THERE ARE THREE ESSENTIAL DIFFERENCES: FIRST, THE ABSENCE OF THE ENEMY. NOW (_turning to the Regimental Sergeant-Major_) WHAT IS THE SECOND DIFFERENCE?" _Sergeant-Major_. "THE ABSENCE OF THE GENERAL, SIR."] * * * * * TO TOWSER. No pampered pound of peevish fluff That goggles from a lady's muff Art thou, my Towser. In the Park Thy form occasions no remark Unless it be a friendly call From soldiers walking in the Mall, Or the impertinence of pugs Stretched at their ease on carriage rugs. For thou art sturdy and thy fur Is rougher than the prickly burr, Thy manners brusque, thy deep "bow wow" (Inherited, but Lord knows how!) Far other than the frenzied yaps That emanate from ladies' laps, Thou art, in fact, of doggy size And hast the brown and faithful eyes, So full of love, so void of blame, That fill a master's heart with shame Because he knows he never can Be more a dog and less a man. No champion of a hundred shows, The prey of every draught that blows, Art thou; in fact thy charms present The earmarks of a mixed descent. And, though too proud to start a fight With every cur that looms in sight, None ever saw thee quail beneath A foeman worthy of thy teeth. Thou art, in brief, a model hound, Not so much beautiful as sound In heart and limb; not always strong When nose and eyes impel to wrong, Nor always doing just as bid, But sterling as the minted quid. And I have loved thee in my fashion, Shared with thy face my frugal ration, Squandered my balance at the bank When thou didst chew the postman's shank, And gone in debt replacing stocks Of private cats and Plymouth Rocks. And, when they claimed the annual fee That seals the bond twixt thee and me, Against harsh Circumstance's edge Did I not put my fob in pledge And cheat the minions of excise Who otherwise had ta'en thee prize? And thou with leaps of lightsome mood Didst bark eternal gratitude And seek my feelings to assail With agitations of the tail. Yet are there beings lost to grace Who claim that thou art out of place, That when the dogs of war are loose Domestic kinds are void of use, And that a chicken or a hog Should take the place of every dog, Which, though with appetite endued, Is not itself a source of food. What! shall we part? Nay, rather we'll Renounce the cheap but wholesome meal That men begrudge us, and we'll take Our leave of bones and puppy cake. Back to the woods we'll hie, and there Thou'lt hunt the fleet but fearful hare, Pursue the hedge's prickly pig, Dine upon rabbits' eggs and dig With practised paw and eager snuffle The shy but oh! so toothsome truffle. ALGOL.