It's 'orrid seein' burnin' farms, which I 'ave often seen 'ere, An' fields all stinks an' shell-'oles, an' the dead among the flowers, But the thing I've 'ated seein' all the bloomin' time I've been 'ere Is the little gardens rooted up--the same as might be ours It's bad to see the chattos--which means castles--gone to ruins, And big cathedrals knocked to bits as used to look that fine, But what puts me in a paddy more than all them sort o' doin's Is the little 'ouses all in 'eaps--the same as might be mine. An' when the what's-it line is bust an' we go rompin' through it, An' knock the lid off Potsdam an' the KAYSER off 'is throne, Why, what'll get our monkey up an' give us 'eart to do it? Just thinkin' o' them little things as might 'ave been our own (An' most of all the little kids as might 'ave been our own)! C.F.S. * * * * * GOIN' BACK. I'm goin' back to Blighty and a free-an' easy life, But I grant it ain't the Blighty of me pals: They takes the Tube to Putney, to the kiddies and the wife, Or takes the air on 'Ampstead with their gals; My little bit o' Blighty is the 'ighway, With the sweet gorse smellin' in the sun; And the 'eather 'ot and dry, where a tired man may lie When the long day's done. There's picture-'alls in 'Ammersmith to suit them mates o' mine; There's beer and 'addock suppers and cigars; But I guess I'd sooner slog it where there's jest the scent o' pine And over'ead an 'eap o' little stars; The lights o' Charin' Cross and Piccadilly, I'd swop 'em for the silver of the streams, When the summer moon is lit and the bats begin to flit And the dark earth dreams. I'm goin' back to Blighty, to the little lonesome lanes, The dog-rose and the foxglove and the ferns, The sleepy country 'orses and the jolty country wains And the kindly faces every way you turns; My little bit o' Blighty is the 'ighway, With the sweet gorse smellin' in the sun; And the 'eather good and deep where a tired man may sleep When the long day's done. * * * * * [Illustration: LONG LIVE THE HOUSE OF WINDSOR!] * * * * * ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT. _Monday, July 16th_.--In the course of a discussion on "rope" in War-bread Mr. THORNE accused the West-End bakeries of mixing white flour with the "G.R." variety, and so supplying their wealthy customers with better bread than is procurable by his own constituents. Although no official confirmation of this charge was forthcoming Mr. THORNE appeared to be convinced of its accuracy. In his opinion the Government, following the historic example of PHARAOH, should give the bread to the people and the rope to the bakers.