In silks and satins the ladies went Where the breezes sighed and the poplars bent, Taking the air of a Sunday morn Midst the red of poppies and gold of corn-- Flowery ladies in gold brocades, With negro pages and serving-maids, In scarlet coach or in gilt sedan, With brooch and buckle and flounce and fan, Patch and powder and trailing scent, Under the trees the ladies went-- Lovely ladies that gleamed and glowed, As they took the air on the Ladies' Road. Boom of thunder and lightning flash-- The torn earth rocks to the barrage crash; The bullets whine and the bullets sing From the mad machine-guns chattering; Black smoke rolling across the mud, Trenches plastered with flesh and blood-- The blue ranks lock with the ranks of gray, Stab and stagger and sob and sway; The living cringe from the shrapnel bursts, The dying moan of their burning thirsts, Moan and die in the gulping slough-- Where are the butterfly ladies now? PATLANDER. * * * * * "No persons were injured and no houses were bit by the bombs."--_Sunday Pictorial_. But they barked horrid. * * * * * [Illustration: CORNERED. KAISER (_having read Mr. GERARD'S German reminiscences_). "I NEVER SAW A MORE ABOMINABLE TISSUE OF DELIBERATE TRUTHS."] * * * * * [Illustration: A LIFE OF PLEASURE. "MOTHER, NURSE PUT ME RIGHT INTO THE VERY COLDEST PART OF THE SEA."] * * * * * THE BROWN CART-HORSE. "Brain-fag! That's wot we 'orses are suffering from. Ah! there's bin a deal o' queer things 'appen since they women started on the farm! I shan't never forget the first time one of them females come into my stall. The roan pony, wot's got sentimental thro' being everlasting driven in the governess-cart, sez she was a pretty young woman. I never noticed nothing 'bout 'er 'cept the pink rose in 'er button-'ole. I never 'eard tell of a farm 'and with a pink rose in 'is shirt before. Maybe such carryings on is all right for they grooms an' kerridge-'orses, but it ain't 'ardly decent for a respectable farm 'orse. So when this 'ere woman come along I up and 'as a grab at it. D'ye think she'd 'it me? I never 'ad such a shock in me life, not since I went backwards when the coal-cart tipped! Lor, lumme! if she didn't catch 'old of me round the neck an' kiss me! 'Oh, you darlin'!' she said, 'did you want me rose then, ducky?' I'm a brown 'orse, but I tell you I blushed chestnut that morning. 'Course the roan pony next door started giggling, and then she 'ad to go and kiss 'im, and that settled 'is little game.