"I bade them take ensample from their Lord Of perfect manners, wearing on their helms The bouquet of a blameless Junkerhood, And be a law of culture to themselves, Though other laws, not made in Germany, Should perish, being scrapped. For so I deemed That this our Order of the Table Round Should mould its Christian pattern on the spheres, Itself unchanged amid a world new-made, And men should say, in that fair after-time, 'The old Order sticketh, yielding place to none.'" So be. Whereat that other held his peace, Seeming, for courtesy, to yield assent. But, as within the lists at Camelot Some temporary knight mislays his seat And falls, and, falling, lets his morion loose, And lights upon his head, and all the spot Swells like a pumpkin, and he hides the bulge Beneath his gauntlet lest it cause remark And curious comment--so behind his hand Sir GERARD's cheek, that had his tongue inside, Swelled like a pumpkin.... O. S. * * * * * THE STOCKING OF PRIVATE PARKS. As I came out on to the convalescents' verandah my brother James looked up from his paper. "Did I ever tell you about a certain Private Parks?" he asked. "He was with me in Flanders in the early days. He came out with a draft and lasted about two months. Rather a curious type. Very superstitious. If a shell narrowly missed him he must have a small piece to put in his pocket. If while standing on a duck-board he happened to be immune while his pals were being knocked out he would carry it about with him all day if possible. On one occasion he was very nearly shot for insubordination, because he would go out into No-man's-land after a flower which he thought would help him. "Not that his superstition was purely selfish. Once, when he had had two particularly close shaves during the day, he insisted upon sleeping outside the barn where we were billeted. 'I'm absolutely certain to have a third close shave,' he said, 'and if I'm in the billet someone will get it.' "The Corporal let him lie down in the farmyard, but a little later he crept up the road about fifty yards to make things more certain." "And I suppose the barn was hit and he escaped?" I put in, feeling that I had heard this story before. "You don't know Private Parks," said James. "About two o'clock in the morning a shell fell on the road not ten yards from him. Bits of it must have made a pattern all round him, but not one hit him, and when he'd picked himself out of the ditch he went back to the billet, knowing all was then safe. "Then one day when we were in the front line there came up with the mail a parcel for Private Parks. I was near when he opened it. When he saw the contents he gave a sigh and a curious resigned expression came over his face. "'What's she sent you?' I asked.