Why the War-Lord's lifted finger fails to bring a peace about.
Yet, though England, crushed and quailing,
Kicks his dove-bird down the stair,
I shall trust, with faith unfailing,
In my KAISER'S conquering air
(Still I blame no man for thinking there must be a catch somewhere).
O.S.
RECOGNITION.
"Francesca," I said, "have you seen it?"