Possibly; but we always prefer our servants to do their waiting on the
floor.

* * * * *

HOME THOUGHTS FROM HIND.

1920.

Back in the years of youth, a thoughtless thruster,
I did adventure to the East and spurn
My native land, and foolishly entrust her
To other guardians pending my return;
And now time bears me to the second lustre,
And I am old and weary and I burn
To freshen memories waxing somewhat vague;
But men say, "Shun old England like the plague."

Lord knoweth Hind is not a place of pleasure
Nor such a land as men forsake with tears;
Lord knoweth how we venerate and treasure
The English memory down the Indian years;
Yet now the mail pours forth in flowing measure
England's un-Englishness, and in our ears
Echo the words of men returned from leave,
Describing Englands one can scarce believe.

Englands abandoned to the fleeting passions,
Feckless as Fez, hysterical as Gaul,
All nigger-music and fantastic fashions