himself.

_Herr M._ God forbid!

* * * * *

LINES TO A HUN AIRMAN,

WHO AROUSED THE DETACHMENT ON A CHILLY MORNING, AT 2.30 A.M.

Oh, come again, but at another time;
Choose some more fitting moment to appear,
For even in fair Gallia's sunny clime
The dawns are chilly at this time of year.

I did not go to bed till one last night,
I was on guard, and, pacing up and down,
Gazed often on the sky where every light
Flamed like a gem in Night's imperial crown;

And when the clamant rattle's hideous sound
Roused me from sleep, in a far distant land
My spirit moved and trod familiar ground,
Where a Young Hopeful sat at my right hand.

There was a spotless cloth upon the board,
Thin bread-and-butter was upon me pressed,
And China tea in a frail cup was poured--
Then I rushed forth inadequately dressed.