How know I that our monarch would approve The order he has given me to-night? My King I've sworn in all things to obey-- I'll only take my orders from my King!" Thus HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, Interpreted the terms of his commission. And HONGREE, who was wise as he was good, Disguised himself that night in ample cloak, Round flapping hat, and visor mask of black, And made, unnoticed, for the English camp. He passed the unsuspecting sentinels (Who little thought a man in this disguise Could be a proper object of suspicion), And ere the curfew-bell had boomed "lights out," He found in audience Bedford's haughty Duke. [Illustration] "Your Grace," he said, "start not--be not alarmed, Although a Frenchman stands before your eyes. I'm HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores. My colonel will attack your camp to-night, And orders me to lead the hope forlorn. Now I am sure our excellent KING CHARLES Would not approve of this; but he's away A hundred leagues, and rather more than that. So, utterly devoted to my King, Blinded by my attachment to the throne, And having but its interest at heart, I feel it is my duty to disclose All schemes that emanate from COLONEL JOOLES, If I believe that they are not the kind Of schemes that our good monarch could approve." "But how," said Bedford's Duke, "do you propose [Illustration] That we should overthrow your colonel's scheme?" And HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores, Replied at once with never-failing tact: "Oh, sir, I know this cursed country well. Entrust yourself and all your host to me; I'll lead you safely by a secret path Into the heart of COLONEL JOOLES' array, And you can then attack them unprepared, And slay my fellow-countrymen unarmed." The thing was done. The DUKE OF BEDFORD gave The order, and two thousand fighting-men Crept silently into the Gallic camp, And killed the Frenchmen as they lay asleep; And Bedford's haughty Duke slew COLONEL JOOLES, And married MAHRY, pride of Aquitaine, To HONGREE, Sub-Lieutenant of Chassoores. [Illustration] THE TANGLED SKEIN Try we life-long, we can never Straighten out life's tangled skein, Why should we, in vain endeavour, Guess and guess and guess again? Life's a pudding full of plums, Care's a canker that benumbs, Wherefore waste our elocution On impossible solution? Life's a pleasant institution, Let us take it as it comes!