By dint of a stout endeavour,
Have chipped off a bit of the Calais coast
And caused the isle that they pant for most
To be further away than ever.
Evoe.
THE PEACE CIGAR.
"By the way, Lorna was there this morning," said Celia. "Her brother's in the War Office."
"And what did Kitchener tell him when they last had lunch together?" I asked.