Now is the time we may all forget
Paper and books, for the Prince is set.
Here in the grass, with our work at heel,
How happy we feel! How happy we feel!




THE REASON.


Now why did Arthur Hoare pull out
A sovereign with a happy shout
And give it rashly to his scout,
Who almost had a fit?

Why of a sudden did he fling
A hard-boiled egg at Eustace Ling,
Forgetting how an egg can sting
The person who is hit?

Why after dinner did he turn
In fury on his room, and burn
His old oak chairs with unconcern?--
A stupid thing to do!

And why so harshly did he pelt
With forks a fresh and timorous Celt
Afraid to utter what he felt?
_Arthur had got his Blue!_