If my efforts result in even one house being erected I shall, I think, have
earned my O.B.E., though I would rather have the house.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _My Lady Bountiful._ "SO YOUR MOTHER IS BETTER THROUGH
TAKING THE QUININE I GAVE HER?"
_Little Girl_ (_doing her best to carry out instructions_). "YES'M. BUT SHE
SAYS SHE'S WORSE OF THE COMPLAINT WOT YOU GIVES 'ER PORT WINE FOR."]
* * * * *
THE TERRITORIAL.
Oh, civil life is fine and free, with no one to obey,
No sergeants shouting, "Show a leg!" or "Double up!" all day;
No buttons to be polished, no army boots to wear,
And nobody to tick you off because you grow your hair.
It's great to sleep beneath a roof that keeps the rain outside,
To eat a daintier kind of grub than quarter-blokes provide,
To rise o' mornings when you wish and when you wish turn in,
To shirk a shave and never hear the truth about your chin;
And not to have to pad the hoof through blazing sun or rain,
Intent on getting nowhere and foot-slogging back again,
To realise no N.C.O. has any more the right
To rob you of your beauty-sleep with "Guard to-morrow night!"
All this is great, of course it is, yet here we are once more
Obeying sergeants just for fun and cheerier than before;
We haven't any good excuse, we've got no war to win--
But nothing's touched the kit-bag yet for packing troubles in.
W.
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