Volume 156 — SONGS OF SIMLA.

I have heard the breezes rustle O'er a precipice of pines, And the half of a Mofussil Shiver at a jackal's whines. I have heard the monkeys strafing Ere the dawn begins to glow, And the long-tailed langur laughing As he lopes across the snow. I have heard the rickshaw varlets Clear the road with raucous cries, Coolies clad in greens or scarlets, As a mistress may devise. Well I know the tittle-tattle Of the caustic muleteer, And the Simla seismic rattle Is familiar to my ear. Though to-day my feet are climbing Bleaker heights and harder roads, Still the Christ-church bells are chiming, Still the mid-day gun explodes. But the sound which echoes loudest Is the sound I never knew Till I lunched (the very proudest) With the Staff at A.H.Q. 'Twas a scene of peace and plenty, Plates a-steam and-spoons a-swoop; 'Twas a sound of five-and-twenty Hungry Generals drinking soup. J.M.S.