True, enduring and tender,
Buoyant and bold and bluff,
Simplest, sanest of stuff;—
Thus grows Lavender, thence breathes England.
Baker. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH THE LITTLE CHAP?"
Mother. "I GIVE IT UP. I'VE GIVEN HIM A BUN—I DON'T KNOW WHAT MORE 'E WANTS. I CAN'T GET 'IM TO REALISE THERE'S A WAR ON."