His means were far from ample For pleasure or for dress, Yet note this bright example Of single-heartedness: Though ranking as a Colonel, His pay was but a groat, While their reward diurnal Was--each a five-pound note. Moreover,--this evinces His kindness, you'll allow,-- He fed them all like princes, And lived himself on cow. He set them all regaling On curious wines, and dear, While he would sit pale-ale-ing, Or quaffing ginger-beer. [Illustration] Then at his instigation (A pretty fancy this) Their daily pay and ration He'd take in change for his; They brought it to him weekly, And he without a groan Would take it from them meekly And give them all his own! Though not exactly knighted As knights, of course, should be, Yet no one so delighted In harmless chivalry. If peasant girl or ladye Beneath misfortunes sank, Whate'er distinctions made he, They were not those of rank. [Illustration] No maiden young and comely Who wanted good advice (However poor or homely) Need ask him for it twice. He'd wipe away the blindness That comes of teary dew; His sympathetic kindness No sort of limit knew. He always hated dealing With men who schemed or planned; A person harsh--unfeeling-- The Colonel could not stand. He hated cold, suspecting, Official men in blue, Who pass their lives detecting The crimes that others do. [Illustration] For men who'd shoot a sparrow, Or immolate a worm Beneath a farmer's harrow, He could not find a term. Humanely, ay, and knightly He dealt with such an one; He took and tied him tightly, And blew him from a gun. The earth has armies plenty, And semi-warlike bands, I'm certain there are twenty In European lands; But, oh! in no direction You'd find one to compare In brotherly affection With that of COLONEL FLARE. [Illustration] SPECULATION Comes a train of little ladies From scholastic trammels free, Each a little bit afraid is, Wondering what the world can be! Is it but a world of trouble-- Sadness set to song? Is its beauty but a bubble Bound to break ere long? Are its palaces and pleasures Fantasies that fade? And the glory of its treasures Shadow of a shade? Schoolgirls we, eighteen and under, From scholastic trammels free, And we wonder--how we wonder!-- What on earth the world can be! AH ME!