Nor can I hope to get behind the mask
That shrouds from me their human cares and graces.
"Is your name William?" I shall want to ask,
And burn to know if this one bets on races,
Or that one has a pretty taste in braces,
Or if a third, who only says, "Just so,"
Beneath his tunic has a heart aglow
With treasured words of praise dropped by his golfing pro.
We'll part, we'll part! Nor with a soulful cry
Will one strong human citadel surrender.
M.O.'s who dandle babes no less than I
Will leave me cold; M.O.'s who have a tender
Passion for my own type of sock-suspender
Won't utter it. Though on my heaving breast
They lean their heads, they'll lean them uncaressed;
We'll part, nor overstep the auscultation test.
* * * * *
"AMERICA'S BLOCKADE.
By David G. Pinkney, the well-known chip-owner."--_Evening News_.
A chip of the old blockade.
* * * * *
"Businesses suitable for ex-soldiers: generals and others; taking
?40 wkly, price ?35. Call or stamp."--_The Daily Chronicle_.
We can almost hear our Generals stamping.
* * * * *
"It was an extremely difficult thing to effect a hit with
anti-aircraft guns.
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