I do not ask, when back on Blighty's shore
My frozen frame in liberty shall rest,
For pleasure to beguile the hours in store
With long-drawn revel or with antique jest.
I do not ask to probe the tedious pomp
And tinsel splendour of the last Revue;
The Fox-trot's mysteries, the giddy Romp,
And all such folly I would fain eschew.
But, propt on cushions of my long desire,
Deep-buried in the vastest of armchairs,
Let me recline what time the roaring fire
Consumes itself and all my former cares.
I shall not think nor speak, nor laugh nor weep,
But simply sit and sleep and sleep and sleep.
* * * * *
"Wanted, Ladyhelp or General, for country, no bread or butter.--Apply
'Gay,' 'Dominion' Office."--_The Dominion_ (_Wellington, N.Z._).
We congratulate the advertiser on her cheery optimism.