“But ranged as infantry, And staring face to face, I shot at him as he at me, And killed him in his place. “I shot him dead because— Because he was my foe, Just so: my foe of course he was; That’s clear enough; although “He thought he’d ’list, perhaps, Off-hand like—just as I— Was out of work—had sold his traps— No other reason why. “Yes; quaint and curious war is! You shoot a fellow down You’d treat if met where any bar is, Or help to half-a-crown.” 1902. GEOGRAPHICAL KNOWLEDGE (A MEMORY OF CHRISTIANA C—) WHERE Blackmoor was, the road that led To Bath, she could not show, Nor point the sky that overspread Towns ten miles off or so. But that Calcutta stood this way, Cape Horn there figured fell, That here was Boston, here Bombay, She could declare full well. Less known to her the track athwart Froom Mead or Yell’ham Wood Than how to make some Austral port In seas of surly mood. She saw the glint of Guinea’s shore Behind the plum-tree nigh, Heard old unruly Biscay’s roar In the weir’s purl hard by . . . “My son’s a sailor, and he knows All seas and many lands, And when he’s home he points and shows Each country where it stands. “He’s now just there—by Gib’s high rock— And when he gets, you see, To Portsmouth here, behind the clock, Then he’ll come back to me!” ONE RALPH BLOSSOM SOLILOQUIZES (“It being deposed that vij women who were mayds before he knew them have been brought upon the towne [rates?] by the fornicacions of one Ralph Blossom, Mr Major inquired why he should not contribute xiv pence weekly toward their mayntenance. But it being shewn that the sayd R. B. was dying of a purple feaver, no order was made.”—_Budmouth Borough Minutes_: 16–.) WHEN I am in hell or some such place, A-groaning over my sorry case, What will those seven women say to me Who, when I coaxed them, answered “Aye” to me? “I did not understand your sign!” Will be the words of Caroline; While Jane will cry, “If I’d had proof of you, I should have learnt to hold aloof of you!” “I won’t reproach: it was to be!” Will dryly murmur Cicely; And Rosa: “I feel no hostility, For I must own I lent facility.” Lizzy says: “Sharp was my regret, And sometimes it is now! But yet I joy that, though it brought notoriousness, I knew Love once and all its gloriousness!” Says Patience: “Why are we apart? Small harm did you, my poor Sweet Heart! A manchild born, now tall and beautiful, Was worth the ache of days undutiful.” And Anne cries: “O the time was fair, So wherefore should you burn down there? There is a deed under the sun, my Love, And that was ours. What’s done is done, my Love. These trumpets here in Heaven are dumb to me With you away. Dear, come, O come to me!”