The chestnut decks their ball-room
With candles red and white,
While all the trees stand round about
With kind protecting arms held out
To guard them through the night.
R.F.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE LOST ALLY.
PEACE. "I HOPED HE WOULD MAKE MY PATH EASIER FOR ME--NOT MORE
DIFFICULT."]
* * * * *
THE MINISTERIAL TREADMILL.
(_BEING A FREE RESUME OF LORD CURZON'S SPEECH AT THE ECCENTRIC CLUB ON
WEDNESDAY THE 22ND._)
Lord CURZON rises with the lark--
That is (at present) when it's dark--
Breakfasts in haste on tea and toast,
Then grapples with the early post,
And reads the newspapers, which shed
Denunciation on his head.
Having digested their vagaries
He calls his faithful secretaries
And keeps them writing, sheet on sheet,
Until he's due in Downing Street.
The Cabinet is seldom through
Until the clock is striking two,
When Ministers, dispersing, munch
Their frugal sandwiches for lunch.
Then back into affairs of State
Again they plunge from three till eight,
Presiding, guiding, interviewing,
Tea conscientiously eschewing,
Until exhausted nature cries
At half-past eight for more supplies.
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