HERBS OF GRACE.
III.
SWEET MARJORAM.
"Sweet Marjoram! Sweet Marjoram!"
(Sang an old dame standing on the kerb);
"You may hear a thousand ballads,
You may pick a thousand salads,
Ere you light on such another herb.
Sweet Marjoram! Sweet Marjoram!
(Let its virtues evermore be sung);
Oh, 'twill make your Sunday clo'es gay,
If you wear it in a nosegay,
Pretty mistress, like when I was young.
"Sweet Marjoram! Sweet Marjoram!
(Sing of sweet old gardens all a-glow);
It will scent your dower drawer, dear,
Folk would strew it on the floor, dear,
Long ago—long ago—long ago.
"Sweet Marjoram! Sweet Marjoram!"
(Sang the old dame standing on the kerb);
"You may hear a thousand ballads,
You may pick a thousand salads,
Ere you light on such another herb."
"The recipients [of the medals] were:—Sergeant W.A. Norris, D.C.M. and Military Private A. Trichney, M.M., andtootompPUF. Medal ..." Daily Paper.
Private TRICHNEY'S second distinction was awarded presumably for something extra good in the bombing line.
"Lord Beauchamp, opening an Economy Exhibition at Gloucester on Saturday, said that among many interesting exhibits was one described as 'Frocks for the twins from Uncle's pyjamas.' He hoped that the child who sent this exhibit would get the prize it deserved."—Daily Mail.
Uncle has probably seen to that.
