olved he would not live in vain;
He bought some land and made a start,
He gave up literature and art,
He studied books on what to grow,
He studied Mr. PROTHERO;
He worked from early dawn till ten,
Then went to town like other men,
And in his office he would stand
Expatiating on the land.
Prom five again he worked till eight,
Although it made his dinner late;
He could not tear himself away,
He could not leave his native clay.
At last, his energy all spent,
He put his tools away and went,
Took off his suit of muddy tan,
Became a clean and cultured man,
And settled firmly down to dine.
On fish and fowl and meat and wine
And bread as much as he might need;
And while he dined he used to read
What PROTHERO had said last night,
And felt that he was doing right.
He didn't notice food was short;
He quite forgot Lord DEVONPORT.

* * * * *

THE TWO CONSTABLES.

It happened one evening when my wife was staying away with her mother,
in the dark months of last winter, when we were without servants, and
I was glad to have received an invitation from my neighbour Jones to
dinner.

He and his wife welcomed me warmly, and their rather unintelligent
maid had just brought in the saddle of mutton--a great weakness of
mine--when we heard a firm knock on the hall door. She returned to say
that someone wanted to speak to Mr. Brown immediately. "Who is it?"
I demanded. "I don't know, Sir," said the girl, "but he looks like a
policeman."

"I hope nothing has happened to your wife," said Mrs. J. anxiously.
"Or her mother," added Jones rather cynically.

The man at the door was certainly a policeman, and an elderly one, and
had probably been recalled from pension when the War broke out.

"Good evening, Sir," he said, staring hard at me. "Are you
Mr. Brown"--I nodded--"of Myrtle Villa, next door"--he eyed me
suspiciously--"No. 17?"

"Yes, yes," I said impatiently; "what of it?"

"I must ask you for your name and address, Sir," pulling out his
note-book, "for showing a strong light at the back of the 'ouse at 8
P.M."

"That's all nonsense," I answered impatiently; "the house is empty."

"Excuse me, Sir, I saw it myself from the road at the back and came
straight round," said he with his notebook ready.

"But it can't be," I said, getting annoyed.

At this moment a Special came running down the path. "They're coming,"
he panted.

"Who are?" I