No larger outlook in life's journeyings, than
Resonant demolition of his food.

I longed to point to him the hedges twined
With starry blossoms, and the coats like silk
Of oxen as they wandered unconfined;
I longed to ask him if his heavier mind
Preferred the cattle of more stedfast kind
Stamped with advertisements of malted milk.

The little red-brick hamlets, poised apart,
And all the grandeur of the rolling leas,
I longed to ask him if they brought no smart
Of scarce-remembered boyhood to his heart.
But I refrained; and he took cherry tart
And after that two different kinds of cheese.

And then we neared a little market town
Half hidden in the dale, that seemed to cling
Fondly about a church of old renown;
And here the fat man started and looked down
And filled his tumbler to the foaming crown
And held it high as if to pledge the KING.

Some memory seemed to stir within his breast
As though the curtain of old days were torn,
And, as he drained the glass with eager zest,
"Behold," I thought, "I wronged him. In that nest,
So far from turmoil, full of old-world rest
(He is about to tell me), he was born.

"And now, before the antique spire hath fled,
Because remembrance of his home is dear,
He toasts it deeply." All my wrath was dead.
Then the man smiled at me and wagged his head;
"Junction for Little Barleythorpe," he said;
"A week ago these points upset my beer."

EVOE.

* * * * *

AN UNPLAYED MASTERPIECE.

[The growing popularity of the one-Act play has prompted the aphorism
that what is required in this class of drama is a "maximum of action
with a minimum of explanation." Nevertheless the following effort has
been rejected by every Manager in London--a fact which decisively
answers the oft-repeated question, "Do Managers read plays?"]

SCENE--_A luxuriously furnished room in the flat of_ Violet Hazelwood.
Violet _is seated, writing. The telephone on the table rings noisily._

_Violet_ (_picking up the receiver_). Hello! Yes.... It's me.... Oh,
it's Reggie.... Yes, I'm at home to you.... In three minutes?... Right,
I shall be here. (_Hangs up receiver._)

_Maid_ (_entering suddenly_). Sir Frank Bulkeley, m'm. (_Goes out and_
Sir Frank _enters._)

_Sir Frank._ My dear Violet---- (_A report is heard and a splinter