Murphy lay very quiet after he had finished his tale, but he was now distinctly relieved. He submitted to having his bed made comfortable and his pillows shaken, and he let the Sister give him a little soup before settling off.
She passed him half an hour afterwards and was thankful to see that the ferrety eyes were closed. By the difficult but regular breathing that came from that tired little body she knew that sleep, in merciful pity, had wiped out the memory of the machine-gun tragedy—for a few hours at any rate.
Dosia Bagot.
BALLIOL MEMORIES.
BY THE HON. A. E. GATHORNE-HARDY.
On March 28, 1916, in a blizzard of snow and a tempest of wind, which might bear comparison with the storm during which Oliver Cromwell passed away, celebrated by Tennyson’s ‘Talking Oak’—
‘When that wild wind made work
In which the gloomy brewer’s soul
Went by me, like a stork’