about him, and in another minute he
tumbled in right atop of us and we took him. He told us afterwards he'd
lost his spectacles and couldn't see a yard in front of him, and that
was the reason for his being so brave. He talked English, too, but in a
funny way, slow and particular and like as if he'd got a bit of suet
pudding in his mouth. Well, we soon made him snug and tidy and then we
started to pull his leg and fill him up, and he swallowed it all down.
We told him something had gone wrong with the beefsteak pie and the jam
tartlets and the orange jelly, and he'd have to satisfy himself with his
own rations; but to-morrow there'd be a prime cut of mutton and an
apple-tart; and he believed all our fairy tales and said he'd write the
story of the English army's food if ever he got home alive. He was a
learned man too, but his lost spectacles gave him a lot of trouble. The
end of it was we made quite a pet of him, and we were quite sorry when
we got relieved and took him to the rear and handed him over as a
prisoner. There wasn't any hatred about it.

Yours,
COCK-EYED DICK.

* * * * *

REPATRIATION.

An interesting alien, he charmed our hours of ease,
Being either Blue Hungarian or Purple Viennese,
And he cut a gorgeous figure in his blue (or purple) suit
As he coaxed enticing noises from (I think it was) the flute.

If his name upon the programme ever chanced to be defined,
It was Otto Heinrich Ollendorf, or something of the kind,
But his casual conversation served surprisingly to show
That the accent of Vienna much resembled that of Bow.

When the rumour ran that battle was a-going to begin,
He was heard to say _his_ country would inevitably win
(Had it chanced that in my presence such an insult had been said,
As he wasn't able-bodied, I'd have punched the beggar's head).

He declined in public favour; it was rumoured he was sent
To keep watch upon our doings as he puffed his instrument,
And we said, "Eject this alien, let him soothe the savage breast
In a beer-house at Vienna or a band at Budapest."

But the way was not so lengthy to his own, his native land;
And where British flautists whistle in a wholly British band
He performs as well as ever, and confesses to the town
(With no fear of unemployment) that his proper name is Brown.

* * * * *

Illustration: _Tommy_ (_reaching flooded trench latel