troop there for a week to school those people with _purwanas_) had cut an inscription upon a great rock; and they interpreted it to me, and it was a jest such as Kurban Sahib himself would have loved. Oh! I have the inscription well copied here. Read it aloud, Sahib, and I will explain the jests. There are two very good ones. Begin, Sahib:— In Memory of WALTER DECIES CORBYN Late Captain 141st Punjab Cavalry The Gurgaon Rissala, that is. Go on, Sahib. Treacherously shot near this place by The connivance of the late HENDRIK DIRK UYS A Minister of God Who thrice took the oath of neutrality And Piet his son, This little work Aha! This is the first jest. The Sahib should see this little work! Was accomplished in partial And inadequate recognition of their loss By some men who loved him _Si monumentum requiris circumspice_ That is the second jest. It signifies that those who would desire to behold a proper memorial to Kurban Sahib must look out at the house. And, Sahib, the house is not there, nor the well, nor the big tank which they call dams, nor the little fruit-trees, nor the cattle. There is nothing at all, Sahib, except the two trees withered by the fire. The rest is like the desert here—or my hand—or my heart. Empty, Sahib—all empty! “THEIR LAWFUL OCCASIONS” THE WET LITANY When the water’s countenance Blurrs ’twixt glance and second glance; When the tattered smokes forerun Ashen ’neath a silvered sun; When the curtain of the haze Shuts upon our helpless ways— Hear the Channel Fleet at sea; _Libera nos domine_! When the engines’ bated pulse Scarcely thrills the nosing hulls; When the wash along the side Sounds, a sudden, magnified When the intolerable blast Marks each blindfold minute passed. When the fog-buoy’s squattering flight Guides us through the haggard night; When the warning bugle blows; When the lettered doorways close; When our brittle townships press, Impotent, on emptiness. When the unseen leadsmen lean Questioning a deep unseen; When their lessened count they tell To a bridge invisible; When the hid and perilous Cliffs return our cry to us. When the treble thickness spread Swallows up our next-ahead; When her siren’s frightened whine Shows her sheering out of line; When, her passage undiscerned, We must turn where she has turned— Hear the Channel Fleet at sea; _Libera nos Domine_! “THEIR LAWFUL OCCASIONS” “… And a security for such as pass on the seas upon their lawful occasions.”—_Navy Prayer_. PART I Disregarding the inventions of the Marine Captain, whose other name is Gubbins, let a plain statement suffice.