That, we regard you, greatest of your clan,
More as an institution than a man.
THE REST-CURE.
"Will young officer requiring rest help farmer catch rabbits for a month?"—Church Family Newspaper.
THE RETURN.
It was at tea last Sunday that we met for the first time for three-and-a-half years. He was sadly altered. To the casual observer he may still appear his own attractive self; the change in him is deeper.
He isn't what he was, but none the less it is wonderfully delightful to have him among us again. A girl at the next table noticed him and spoke smilingly to her companion. But I—I sat and looked at him and never said a word.
Before the War I was fond of him, but I doubt if I could ever have realised how much I should miss him; and nothing has brought home to me so surely the astounding fact that at last it is over as his return.
Sitting opposite to him here brought back the jolly memories of other teas in that distant pre-war life of ours—memories of bright faces, gentle clatter of cups, charm of soft clothes, strange forgotten sense of comforts, and one particular smile; and, throwing off from me the gathering gloom of the war-weary, I dug my fork joyously into his brown bosom and raised the chocolate éclair to my lips.