THE SOCIETY FOR THE DISCOVERY OF NEW WAR FOODS TEST THEIR LATEST
DISH.]

* * * * *

PICCADILLY.

_Gay shops, stately palaces, bustle and breeze,_
_The whirring of wheels and the murmur of trees;_
_By night or by day, whether noisy or stilly,_
_Whatever my mood is--I love Piccadilly._

Thus carolled FRED LOCKER, just sixty years back,
In a year ('57) when the outlook was black,
And even to-day the war-weariest Willie
Recovers his spirits in dear Piccadilly.

We haven't the belles with their Gainsborough hats,
Or the Regency bucks with their wondrous cravats,
But now that the weather no longer is chilly;
There's much to enchant us in New Piccadilly.

As I sit in my club and partake of my "ration"
No longer I'm vexed by the follies of fashion;
The dandified Johnnies so precious and silly--
You seek them in vain in the New Piccadilly.

The men are alert and upstanding and fit,
They've most of them done or they're doing their bit;
With the eye of a hawk and the stride of a gillie