But of course, as the Major says, 'in a little Station we must all be
friendly.'


The Hill of Illusion

What rendered vain their deep desire?
A God, a God their severance ruled,
And bade between their shores to be
The unplumbed, salt, estranging sea.
--Matthew Arnold.

He. Tell your jhampanies not to hurry so, dear. They forget I'm
fresh from the Plains.

She. Sure proof that I have not been going out with any one. Yes,
they are an untrained crew. Where do we go?

He. As usual to the world's end. No, Jakko.

She. Have your pony led after you, then. It's a long round.

He. And for the last time, thank Heaven!

She. Do you mean that still? I didn't dare to write to you about it
all these months.

He. Mean it! I've been shaping my affairs to that end since
Autumn. What makes you speak as though it had occurred to you
for the first time?