")
* * * * *
And you think perhaps that the story ends here, with William in the
queue again? Oh, no. William is a man of resource. The very next day
he met another friend, who said, "Hallo, aren't you out yet?"
"Not yet," said William.
"My boy got out a month ago."
"H-h-h-how?" said William.
"Ah well, you see, he's going up to Cambridge. Complete his education
and all the rest of it. They let 'em out at once on that."
"Ah!" said William thoughtfully.
William is thirty-eight, but he has taken the great decision. He is
going up to Cambridge next term. He thinks it will be quicker. He no
longer stands in the queue for two hours every day; he spends the time
instead studying for his Little Go.
A.A.M.
* * * * *
TREES AND FAIRIES.
The larch-tree gives them needles
To stitch their gossamer things;
Carefully, cunningly toils the oak
To shape the cups of the fairy folk;
The sycamore gives them wings.
The lordly fir-tree rocks them
High on his swinging sails;
The hawthorn fashions their tiny spears,
The whispering alder charms their ears
With soft mysterious tales.
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