"Then we should point out that they wouldn't go with Barbara's curiously-coloured hair. You leave this to me. I can finish it off now on my head. At the same time I'm sorry I'm not going to spend _anything_." "Oh, but you are," said Miss Middleton. "You're going to give me and mother tea." "Of course I am," I agreed. * * * * * * * After tea I went back to the shop by myself. "I want," I said "a trifle for about three pounds. A moonstone pendant or something. Yes, that's very sweet. No, I'll take it with me." They packed it in a pretty little box for me, and I'm going to send it to Miss Middleton on the twenty-fourth. I am putting in a card with the words "From Barbara" on it. As I said, I am not giving any presents myself this year, but I do think that Barbara should repay at least some of the kindnesses which have been showered upon her so wantonly. CHESS (The author cannot lay claim to any great technical knowledge of chess, but he fancies that he understands the spirit of the game. He feels that, after the many poems on the Boat Race, a few bracing lines on the Inter-University Chess Match would be a welcome change.) This is the ballad of Edward Bray, Captain of Catherine's, Cambridge Blue-- Oh, no one ever had just his way Of huffing a bishop with KB2! The day breaks fine, and the evenings brings A worthy foe in the Oxford man-- A great finesser with pawns and things, But quick in the loose when the game began. The board was set, and the rivals tossed But Fortune (alas!) was Oxford's friend. "Tail," cried Edward, and Edward lost; So Oxford played from the fireplace end. We hold our breath, for the game's begun-- Oh, who so gallant as Edward Bray! He's taken a bishop from KQ1, And ruffed it--just in the Cambridge way! Then Oxford castles his QB knight (He follows the old, old Oxford groove; Though never a gambit saw the light That's able to cope with Edward's move). The game went on, and the game was fast, Oh, Oxford huffed and his King was crowned; The exchange was lost, and a pawn was passed, And under the table a knight was found! Then Oxford chuckled; but Edward swore, A horrible, horrible oath swore he; And landed him one on the QB4, And followed it up with an RQ3. Time was called; with an air of pride Up to his feet rose Edward Bray. "Marker, what of the score?" he cried. "What of the battle I've won this day?" The score was counted; and Bray had won By two in honours, and four by tricks, And half of a bishop that came undone, And all of a bishop on KQ6. * * * * * * Then here's to Chess: and a cheer again For the man who fought on an April day With never a thought of sordid gain! England's proud of you, Edward Bray! PROGRESSIVE BRIDGE