SCHOOL If there is a vile, pernicious, Making man a senseless tool, And the wisdom of a mule; If there's anything improving Out of sight and make us great; James Kenneth Stephen. THE MILLENNIUM TO R. K. As long I dwell on some stupendous "Exactly So" 61 Monstr'-inform'-ingens-horrendous Demoniaco-seraphic Penman's latest piece of graphic. -ROBERT BROWNING. WILL there never come a season When the world shall cease to wonder And a boy's eccentric blunder When mankind shall be delivered When there stands a muzzled stripling, When the Rudyards cease from Kipling And the Haggards Ride no more? James Kenneth Stephen. "EXACTLY SO" A SPEECH, both pithy and concise, Marks a mind acute and wise; What speech, my friend, say, do you know, I have a dear and witty friend "No" Who turns this phrase to every end; Or when a bore his ear assails, Is there remark on matters grave He stops it by "Exactly so." It saves the trouble of a thought- It has another charm, this phrase, Nor need the conscience feel distress, Each mortal loves to think he's right, Then, Christian, you may soothe your foe Whoe'er these lines may chance peruse, Of this more could my muse relate, Lady T. Hastings. Companions 63 COMPANIONS A TALE OF A GRANDFATHER I KNOW not of what we ponder'd Or made pretty pretence to talk, As, her hand within mine, we wander'd Tow'rd the pool by the lime-tree walk, While the dew fell in showers from the passion flowers And the blush-rose bent on her stalk. I cannot recall her figure: Was it regal as Juno's own? Or only a trifle bigger Than the elves who surround the throne Of the Faëry Queen, and are seen, I ween, By mortals in dreams alone? What her eyes were like, I know not: Her teeth, I presume, were "pearly": But which was she, brunette or blonde? Her hair, was it quaintly curly, Or as straight as a beadle's wand? That I fail'd to remark;-it was rather dark Then the hand that reposed so snugly Was the countenance fair or ugly? My eyes were p'r'aps blurr'd; and besides I'd heard That it's horribly rude to stare. And I was I brusque and surly? Or oppressively bland and fond? Was I partial to rising early? Or why did we twain abscond, All breakfastless, too, from the public view, What pass'd, what was felt or spoken- And whether the heart was broken That beat under that shelt'ring shawl(If shawl she had on, which I doubt)-has gone, Yes, gone from me past recall. Was I haply the lady's suitor? Or her uncle? I can't make out- As to why we were there, who on earth we were, Charles Stuart Calverley. THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD WITH HIS SON O WHAT harper could worthily harp it, Look well at it-also look sharp, it The purple is heather (erica); The yellow, gorse-call'd sometimes "whin." Cruel boys on its prickles might spike a Green beetle as if on a pin. You may roll in it, if you would like a |