II.—SIMLA SOUNDS.
I have heard the breezes rustle
O'er a precipice of pines,
And the half of a Mofussil
Shiver at a jackal's whines.
I have heard the monkeys strafing
Ere the dawn begins to glow,
And the long-tailed langur laughing
As he lopes across the snow.
I have heard the rickshaw varlets
Clear the road with raucous cries,
Coolies clad in greens or scarlets,
As a mistress may devise.
Well I know the tittle-tattle
Of the caustic muleteer,
And the Simla seismic rattle
Is familiar to my ear.
Though to-day my feet are climbing
Bleaker heights and harder roads,
Still the Christ-church bells are chiming,
Still the mid-day gun explodes.
But the sound which echoes loudest
Is the sound I never knew
Till I lunched (the very proudest)
With the Staff at A.H.Q.
'Twas a scene of peace and plenty,
Plates a-steam and-spoons a-swoop;
'Twas a sound of five-and-twenty
Hungry Generals drinking soup.
J.M.S.