ng stockings,
"We'd surf-ride and bathe in the sea,
We'd wear nothing but little blue smockings
And eat mangoes and crabs for our tea."
"Oh no!" said a third, "that's a rotten
Idea of a perfect day;
I long to see mountains forgotten,
Once more hear the bells of a sleigh.
I'd give all I have in hard money
For one day of ski-ing again,
And to see those white mountains all sunny
Would pretty well drive me insane."
Then a girl, as she flicked cigarette ash
Most carelessly on to the floor,
Had a feeling just then that her pet "pash"
Would be a nice car at the door,
To motor all day without fagging--
Not to drive nor to start up the thing.
Oh! the joy to see someone else dragging
A tow-rope or greasing a spring!
Then a fifth murmured, "What about fishing?
Fern and heather right up to your knees
And a big salmon rushing and swishing
'Mid the smell of the red rowan trees."
So the train of opinions drifted
And thicker the atmosphere grew,
Till piercing the voices uplifted
Rang a sound I was sure I once knew.
A sound that set all my nerves singing
And ran down the length of my spine,
A great pack of hounds as they're flinging
Themselves on a new red-hot line!
A bit of God's country is stretching
As far as the hawk's eye can see,
The bushes are leafless, like etching,
As all good dream fences should be.
There isn't a bitter wind blowing
But a soft little southerly breeze,
And instead of the grey channel flowing
A covert of scrub and young trees.
The field of course is just dozens
Of people I want to meet so--
Old friends, to say nothing of cousins
Who've been killed in the war months ago.
Three F.A.N.Y.s are riding like fairies
Having drifted right into my dreams,
And they're riding their favourite "hairies"
That have been dead for years, so it seems.
A ditch that I've funked with precision
For seasons, and passed by in fear,
I now leap with a perfect decision
That never has marked my career.
For a dream-horse has never yet stumbled;
Far away hounds don't know how to flag.
A dream-fence would melt ere it crumbled,
And the dream-scent's as strong as a drag.
Of course the whole field I have pounded
Lepping high five-barred gates by t