BY 
 
 T. W. H. CROSLAND, 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 “LITERARY PARABLES,” “OTHER PEOPLE’S WINGS,” 
 
 ETC. : 
 
 Bristol: J. W. Arrov^mith, n. Quay Street. 
 
 London : Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Company Limited. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 

 
 
 ' 
 
 t 
 
All rights reserved 
 
 PLEASANT ODES 
 
 BY 
 
 T. W. H. CROSLAND 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 “LITERARY PARABLES,” “OTHER PEOPLE’S WINGS” 
 ETC 
 
 % 
 
 BRISTOL 
 
 J. W. Arrowsmith, ii Quay Street 
 LONDON 
 
 Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent and Co. Limited 
 
 1900 
 
.<=* ^ 4\a.a|S<4 
 
 CSV\* 
 
 PLEASANT 
 
 <1 
 
 ODES. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page, 
 
 Her Majesty the Queen 9 
 
 Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman ... ... 17 
 
 Lord Roberts... ... ... ... ... ... 27 
 
 Mr. Timothy Healy ... ... ... ... 39 
 
 Sir Redvers Buller 49 
 
 Mr. Arthur James Balfour ... ... ... 57 
 
 Mr. Rudyard Kipling ... ... ... ... 71 
 
 Dr. Leyds ... ... ... ... ... ... 79 
 
 Sir Edward Grey ... ... ... ... ... 91 
 
 Mr. W. B. Yeats ... ... ... ... ... 103 
 
 President Kruger ... ... ... ... ... 113 
 
 Mr. W. W. Astor 123 
 
 Commandant Cronje 133 
 
 The Clerk of the Weather 145 
 
Several of the following pieces originally 
 appeared in The Outlook , and are now 
 reprinted by permission of the Editor of 
 
 that journal. 
 
tbe Same Sutbor. 
 
 LITERARY PARABLES. 
 OTPIER PEOPLE’S WINGS. 
 
 FIFTY FABLES. 
 
To Her Majesty the Queen . 
 
 ii 
 
 I. 
 
 Madam, — 
 
 My acquaintance among Queens is limited : 
 I am fairly familiar 
 With the late Laureate’s 
 Queen o’ the May, mother ; 
 
 Also, I have heard 
 Of the Queen of Sheba, 
 
 And Queen Elizabeth, 
 
 And Queen Anne, 
 
 And Queen cakes : 
 
 But these are about all, 
 
 Unless, 
 
 For the sake of furnishing forth 
 Another sparkling line 
 Or two, 
 
 We mention 
 
 The Queen of hearts, 
 
 And the Queen 
 Of watering-places. 
 
12 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 Nevertheless, 
 
 Having been born in your Majesty’s most excellent 
 reign, 
 
 Having been brought up in it, 
 
 Having been married in it, 
 
 Having spent a lot of money in it, 
 
 Having done my best to render it a little more 
 famous than I found it, 
 
 And having, at sundry times and on divers occa- 
 sions, nearly died in consequence, 
 
 I feel that I may be excused 
 
 If I indulge in an outburst 
 
 Of unpremeditated, metrical loyalty. 
 
 All the other poets have had a turn : 
 
 Why not the present deponent ? 
 
To Her Majesty 
 The Queen. 
 

To Her Majesty the Queen . 
 
 15 
 
 V. 
 
 It occurs to me 
 
 That, after perusing this ode, 
 
 You will probably command me 
 Into your august presence 
 (Monday is my slack day). 
 
 Were such a thing to happen, 
 
 I should come, as in duty bound, 
 Make my very best bow, 
 
 And offer you my sincerest apologies. 
 And if you were graciously to ask me 
 What you could do for me, 
 
 I should respectfully request 
 To be sent back 
 
 To the place from whence I came. 
 
To Her Majesty the Queen. 
 
 *3 
 
 III. 
 
 Do not be alarmed, 
 
 0 my liege Lady ! 
 
 1 am not going to attempt 
 Uncouth rhymes for “Victoria,” 
 
 I am not going to bid you “ hail ” 
 
 In seventeen badly-constructed stanzas, 
 
 Neither do I propose to dilate 
 Upon your exceptional qualities of heart and mind, 
 Nor upon the exceedingly able manner in which 
 you have wielded the sceptre 
 During the past sixty-three years. 
 
*4 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 IV. 
 
 Mine, Madam, is loyalty , 
 
 The loyalty of the common subject ; 
 
 It runs neither to protestation nor to slobber; 
 
 It bares its head when the Queen goes by ; 
 
 It bares its head when the band plays a certain 
 tune ; 
 
 It stands up at dinners, 
 
 In Europe, Asia, Africa, America, and Australasia, 
 And says, “ The Queen ! ” and lifts its glass ; 
 
 It stands up in less festive circumstances 
 And says nothing, and takes whatever gruel may 
 be stirring ; 
 
 It expands its breast for a ball, 
 
 Like the tenor in the opera ; 
 
 And though they keep on shooting it down 
 For two hundred and odd consecutive days, 
 
 It is still there, and as ardent as ever : 
 
 In fine, Madam, it is the loyalty 
 •Of the Briton. 
 
Sir Henry 
 
 Campbell-Bannerman. 
 
Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman . 
 
 19 
 
 I. 
 
 My dear Sir H. C.-B., — 
 
 When I behold you 
 
 Trailing clouds of glory 
 
 And fumbling for the next sentence, 
 
 Or reading epigrams off a piece of paper, 
 Or keeping up the Front-bench tradition 
 With the assistance of a little Latin, 
 
 Th’ unbidden tear 
 
 Shines softly in both mine eyes — 
 
 It does, really ! 
 
20 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 To be a leader of men 
 
 Is (as you will admit, my dear Sir Henry) 
 
 To be more or less great : 
 
 On the other hand, 
 
 To be the leader of a party, 
 
 Especially when there is no particular party to 
 lead, 
 
 Is (as you will admit, my dear Sir Henry) 
 
 To be more or less distinguished — 
 
 It is , really ! 
 
Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman . 
 
 21 
 
 III. 
 
 But speaking for myself, 
 
 If I were leading a party 
 
 (Even if it were only an excursion party), 
 
 And it contained so many inharmonious elements 
 As does your party, 
 
 I ’m hanged if I would lead it — 
 
 I am, really ! 
 
22 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 IV. 
 
 That you should persist, 
 
 That you should sit assiduously in your place, 
 Patient, pathetic, uncomplaining, 
 
 What time your nearest and dearest friends and 
 supporters 
 
 Give your position away to a winking Ministry, 
 Speaks volumes for your sense of duty, 
 
 Your sense of patriotism, 
 
 Your sense of the sacrifices demanded from a 
 successor of Gladstone, Palmerston, Peel, 
 and the rest, 
 
 Your extraordinary capacity for balancing your- 
 self on the boniest of fences : 
 
 (And your fence is a bony one, if ever a fence was 
 bony — 
 
 It is, really ! ) 
 
Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman. 
 
 23 
 
 V. 
 
 O, my dear Sir Henry, 
 
 Nobody has greater respect for you than I have, 
 Nobody sympathises with you more than I do, 
 Nobody wishes you better wishes ! 
 
 Will you be advised? 
 
 Will you let me counsel you ? — 
 
 I will do it free of charge ; 
 
 And if you ever get a set of hints finer than the 
 following, 
 
 I should be much obliged if you would communi- 
 cate with me — 
 
 I should , really ! 
 
24 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Here you are : 
 
 Hint No. i. Come off that fence! 
 
 Hint No. 2. If the party don’t like it, never mind ! 
 
 Hint No. 3. . . . 
 
 On second thoughts, you had better send me the 
 usual penny stamp, on receipt of which, I will 
 forward you the balance of my superior hints 
 by parcel post, 
 
 I will , really ! 
 


Lord Roberts. 
 
Lord Roberts . 
 
 29 
 
 I. 
 
 My dear Field-Marshal Lord Roberts of 
 Kandahar and Waterford, V.C., — 
 
 There ’s a little red-faced man, 
 
 Which is Bobs, 
 
 Rides the tallest horse ” eh ? 
 
 Well, I won’t if you had rather I wouldn’t : 
 
 As a matter of fact, I forget the rest, 
 
 And I can quite undei^tand 
 That Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, 
 
 Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, 
 
 Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, Bobs, Bobs all the time as it 
 were 
 
 Does become a bit trying ; 
 
 I also agree with you in the view 
 
 That Kipling is a confounded 
 
 But then, he is a poet, 
 
 And so am I, 
 
 So that we mustn’t be too hard on him. 
 
30 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 Besides being a poet, my dear Field-Marshal, 
 
 I am a judge of most things, 
 
 From cheap cigars to shorthorns, 
 
 From pretty faces to gunpowder tea, 
 
 And from infants’ socks to generals, 
 
 And on the whole, sir, 
 
 I am inclined to think 
 
 That there is a certain amount of truth in the oft 
 repeated statement 
 That you 
 Are 
 
 A GENERAL. 
 
Lord Roberts . 
 
 3i 
 
 III. 
 
 Of course we have others — 
 
 To be precise, one other — 
 
 His name is Kitchener. 
 
 Of him you know as much 
 As I do : 
 
 He appears to be a sort of contractor 
 Who does things to time ; 
 
 And as I never do things to time myself, 
 
 I feel — if I may say so, dear Field-Marshal — 
 That I like you 
 More ’n I like him. 
 
32 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 IV. 
 
 Howsomever 
 
 It is not my intention, 
 
 On this occasion, 
 
 To draw invidious comparisons : 
 
 My immediate business 
 Is with you, 
 
 And, by your kind leave, 
 
 I will endeavour to get through with it 
 Right away. 
 
Lord Roberts. 
 
 33 
 
 V. 
 
 There can be no doubt 
 That this South African row 
 
 Is giving you an amount of pull in military affairs, 
 Such as has not been enjoyed 
 By any fighting person 
 Since Wellington. 
 
 The great British public 
 Looks towards you 
 Confidently ; 
 
 It is you upon whom it depends 
 For the prosecution 
 Of the war to a successful issue 
 (Or words to that effect). 
 
 Not only so, 
 
 But — unless I am hugely mistaken — 
 
 It is on you 
 
 That the great British public 
 Will ultimately have to depend 
 For the cleaning out 
 Of certain of our army stables. 
 
 3 
 
34 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VI. 
 
 On this work 
 
 You will probably be employed 
 In the near future : 
 
 That is to say, 
 
 As soon as you have settled with Uncle Paul : 
 Kitchener, of course, will help you, 
 
 And I am writing to express the hope 
 That, between you, 
 
 You will do the job 
 Once and for all, 
 
 And with absolute 
 Thoroughness. 
 
Lord Roberts. 
 
 35 
 
 VII. 
 
 Don’t forget what I have said. 
 
36 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Good-bye and good-luck ! 
 
Mr. Timothy M. Healy. 
 
Mr. Timothy M. Healy. 
 
 4i 
 
 I. 
 
 My dear Timothy, — 
 
 To you, greeting ! 
 
 Behold, I approach you with an ode ! 
 
 Odes are not always the choicest of reading, 
 acushla, 
 
 But I can guarantee this one, 
 
 Because ’tis myself that wrote it. 
 
42 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 II. 
 
 Dear Timothy, 
 
 What a man you are to be sure ! 
 
 That hawk’s eye, 
 
 That irate nostril, 
 
 That implacable sneering lip, 
 
 Those sarcastic teeth, 
 
 That hiss, 
 
 That look of tired bitterness ! — 
 
 Who, becoming acquainted with these things, 
 could forget them ? 
 
 Who, understanding them, will not be moved ? 
 (Sing, Muse, sing ! if ever you sang in your life !) 
 The words in parentheses, Mr. Healy, 
 
 Are not addressed to yourself, but to my Muse, 
 Who, I am sorry to say, 
 
 Has to be continually prodded 
 To prevent her from stopping. 
 
Mr. Timothy M. Healy. 
 
 43 
 
 III. 
 
 I sometimes think, O Timothy, 
 
 That Erin must love you better than she loves 
 anybody else in the House of Commons, 
 Unless, mayhap, it be the Balfours ; 
 
 For you have loved Erin 
 
 With a love passing the love of woman, 
 
 And you have hated — 
 
 Jove, how you have hated ! 
 
 I will back you to hate 
 
 Against any man who fancies himself in the hating 
 way 
 
 On this sublunary planet : 
 
 You hate, indeed, almost as hard as a woman. 
 (Sing up, Muse, for Heaven’s sake !) 
 
44 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 IV. 
 
 Singularly enough, O Timothy Michael mine, 
 
 I have little to say to you : 
 
 I might as well talk to the Hyrcanian lion, 
 
 Or the crocodile of the Nile, 
 
 Or a mad dog, 
 
 Or Paulus Kruger, Rex. . . . 
 
 There you are, with your love and your hate — 
 More power to both of ’em, say I ; 
 
 May your shadow never grow less, 
 
 And may you live to a green and contentious old 
 
 age! 
 
Mr. Timothy M. Healy. 
 
 45 
 
 V. 
 
 All of which goes to show, Mr. Healy, 
 
 That I am in the mood of the man who met with 
 Napper Tandy 
 And took him by the hand, 
 
 Thereby setting a beautiful example 
 For all Irish statesmen, 
 
 Not to mention some English ones : 
 
 For is it not kinder, pleasanter, 
 
 And in every way more satisfactory 
 To take a person by the hand 
 Than by the throat ? 
 
 I trow that it is, Timothy, 
 
 And you trow, too, Timothy, 
 
 In fact, we both trow, so to speak. 
 
 (O, jade Muse, why this stumbling ?) 
 
4 6 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 VI. 
 
 In conclusion, Mr. Healy, 
 
 The Lady of whom we wot 
 
 Has still a smile on her lip and a tear in her eye : 
 
 Be it yours to consolidate that smile 
 
 And to wipe away as much of that tear as possible : 
 
 The nasty things you say at times 
 
 Don’t appear, to me, to help much ; 
 
 But — well, every man to his trade, you know ! 
 (Muse, old girl, we are through !) 
 
Sir Redvers Buller. 
 
Sir Redvers Buller. 
 
 5 * 
 
 I. 
 
 My dear General Sir Redvers Henry 
 Buller, P.C., G.C.B., K.C.M.G., V.C.,— 
 
 When you see these touching lines 
 You will probably ejaculate: 
 
 “ Et Tu(gela ), Brute ! ” 
 
 Yet be not perturbed, 
 
 For there is precious little Brutus about me : 
 
 In other words, I am neither an orator nor an 
 assassin, 
 
 But merely a poet 
 Of 4.7 calibre, 
 
 Like our mutual friend 
 Mr. Gosse. 
 
52 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 Oftentimes during the present war, dear Genera], 
 Have I thought that there must be a sort of affinity 
 between your destiny and my destiny, 
 
 And this chiefly because 
 
 Retirement has always been a salient feature of 
 my career. 
 
 Before I made myself master of Fleet Street 
 I was something in Surrey : 
 
 To establish myself on the hither side of the 
 Thames 
 
 (Where most of the truly great newspapers are 
 published) 
 
 Became a passion with me : 
 
 I tried all the drifts, 
 
 Including Blackfriars, Waterloo, Hungerford, and 
 Westminster, 
 
 And every time (save the last time) 
 
 I found myself compelled to fall back upon my base, 
 
 Which I did in good order 
 
 And without the loss of a pound of stores. 
 
 Your last time of crossing the Tugela, dear General, 
 Came in due time, 
 
 Even as came my last time of crossing the Thames. 
 
Sir Redvers Butter. 
 
 53 
 
 III. 
 
 And as for kopjes, 
 
 You are more or less done with them : 
 
 Albeit, there is no kopje in all South Africa 
 Which is more acclivitous or fearfully fortified 
 Than a kopje known to myself and our mutual 
 friend Mr. Gosse 
 As Parnassus ; 
 
 Mr. Gosse and I 
 
 Have been storming Parnassus 
 
 Quite ten years — 
 
 And we are only half-way up, even now. 
 
54 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 IV. 
 
 Well, my dear General, 
 
 Drake, he was a Devon man, 
 
 And so are you : 
 
 I feel that I ought to have been a Devon man, too, 
 And then there would have been three of us. 
 
 As it is, let me tell you frankly 
 That I have ever had faith in you ; 
 
 I believed all along that you would relieve Lady- 
 smith 
 
 In a thoroughly neat, able, and satisfactory manner ; 
 I believed you had keys enough to fit any amount 
 of locks, 
 
 And I believed you would put the right key into 
 the right lock sooner or later : 
 
 Love laughs at locksmiths, 
 
 So in the end did Buller — 
 
 Whereupon we made a new proverb, 
 
 To wit : — 
 
 Buller laughs at Ladysmiths — 
 
 Which was, I frankly admit, rather clumsy of us. 
 
Sir Redvers Buller. 
 
 55 
 
 V. 
 
 And now 
 
 All that remains to be done 
 Is to create a new lord : 
 
 “ Lord Buller who banged ’em ” 
 Would sound very pretty, 
 Wouldn’t it, now ? 
 
 Ah, my dear General, 
 
 A l sal vecht komen ; 
 
 Be of good heart ! 
 

 
 
 
 <*• 
 
Mr. Arthur James Balfour. 
 
Mr. Arthur James Balfour. 
 
 59 
 
 I. 
 
 Dear Mr. Arthur James Balfour, 
 
 I have been thinking about you ; 
 
 And, between ourselves, 
 
 I begin to incline to the opinion 
 
 That you are 
 
 Rather 
 
 A notable 
 
 Person. 
 
Co 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 Golf, people tell me, 
 
 Is a great game : 
 
 When I ask them why, 
 
 They say : “ Well — er — well — 
 You see — 
 
 Mr. Balfour 
 Plays it.” 
 
 And then I say : 
 
 “ Mr. Balfour, of course, 
 
 Is not the only sensible man 
 Who plays golf ? ” 
 
 And they say : 
 
 “ Oh, no.” 
 
Mr. Arthur Janies Balfour . 
 
 61 
 
 III. 
 
 Now, Sir, 
 
 Mr. Pinero 
 
 Has lately demonstrated 
 
 That a little logic goes a long way, 
 
 And I, for one, 
 
 Am prepared to argue 
 That if golf be a great game 
 Because Mr. Balfour plays it, 
 Politics must also be a great game 
 For precisely the same reason : 
 
 Do you take me, Sir ? 
 
 Or 
 
 Do you not ? 
 
62 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 IV. 
 
 Fortunately 
 I have never myself 
 Observed you 
 In the act 
 And process 
 Of playing golf. 
 
 I was once at North Berwick 
 When you were doing it, 
 
 But I declined to go and watch you, 
 Because I felt 
 That the spectacle 
 
 Of a Minister of the Crown 
 
 * 
 
 And a philosopher 
 Knocking a little ball about 
 With the end of a stick 
 Would not materially 
 Edify me. 
 
Mr. Arthur James Balfour . 
 
 63 
 
 V. 
 
 On the other hand, 
 
 The pleasure of beholding you 
 In the House of Commons 
 Has been mine 
 Many a time 
 And oft. 
 
 In that chamber 
 Of oratorical horrors, Sir, 
 
 You are, in a manner of speaking, 
 
 One of the few objects 
 Worth beholding 
 And worth considering : 
 
 You satisfy the eye 
 With gracility 
 
 (Gracility is one better than Rossetti’s “ gracile ”) 
 
 And a talent for sitting on your shoulder-blades ; 
 
 You satisfy the ear 
 
 With an unobtrusive 
 
 And slightly careless eloquence ; 
 
 You satisfy what nowadays passes for the intellect, 
 With a sort of affable reasonableness ; 
 
 And you satisfy what may be termed the Parlia- 
 mentary sense 
 
 Because you play “ the game " skilfully and like 
 a sportsman. 
 
64 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Sir, I have a high opinion of you. 
 
 x:h hi. 
 
Mr. Arthur James Balfour. 
 
 6 5 
 
 VII. 
 
 I used to be a Radical. 
 
66 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VIII. 
 
 I am a Radical sti)l : 
 
 But if Arthur James Balfour 
 
 Ever put up for the constituency in which I have 
 the honour to reside, 
 
 I should vote for Arthur James Balfour, 
 
 And subscribe towards the Liberal or Radical 
 candidate’s election expenses. 
 
Mr. Arthur James Balfour , 
 
 67 
 
 IX. 
 
 Also, 
 
 I am delighted to see you 
 In the House 
 O’ nights, 
 
 And to note 
 
 That you are looking 
 
 Well and fit ; 
 
 And as your wellness and fitness 
 Are no doubt due 
 To your golf-playing, 
 
 I forgive you 
 Your predilection 
 In that direction 
 (Who says I can’t rhyme ?). 
 
68 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 X. 
 
 And now, my dear Mr. Balfour, 
 
 In the parlance of the game that you love, 
 We have “ holed the round.” 
 

 
 
 
 
\ 
 
Mr. Rudyard Kipling. 
 
Mr. Rudyard Kipling. 
 
 73 
 
 I. 
 
 O Mr. Kipling, 
 
 Mr. Rudyard Kipling, 
 
 Dear Mr. Kipling, 
 
 Hearken ere I die. 
 
 For now the midday bustle 
 Holds the street : 
 
 The ’bus horse jibs 
 The hansoms jingle past ; 
 
 The p’liceman, 
 
 With his shadow on the stone, 
 Stands like a shadow 
 Telling folks the time ; 
 
 And there are many printers 
 
 Out for 
 
 Lunch. 
 
74 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 0 Mr. Kipling, 
 
 Mr. Rudyard Kipling, 
 
 Dear Mr. Kipling, 
 
 Hearken ere I die. 
 
 Framed in a magic casement 
 
 1 can see 
 
 A certain public-house ; 
 Before it now 
 {’Tis so, as I live!) 
 
 A Roman matron turns 
 The handle 
 Of a patent 
 Pianette — - 
 Which instrument, 
 
 Set on a decent car 
 And fenced with felt 
 To keep the weather off, 
 Books very nice 
 And very trim 
 Indeed. 
 
Mr. Rudyard Kipling. 
 
 75 
 
 III. 
 
 0 Mr. Kipling, 
 
 Mr. Rudyard Kipling, 
 
 Dear Mr. Kipling, 
 
 Hearken ere I die. 
 
 What air is that 
 The Roman woman flings 
 Out of her instrument 
 Into that public-house 
 Over and over again, 
 
 As if she liked it ? 
 
 Ah, bad man , you know — 
 
 You do you know — 
 
 You know you know you do — 
 
 It is the air Sir Arthur Sullivan made 
 To fit those lovely verses 
 
 About ssh ! 
 
 We are observed ! 
 
 ’Twere better not said out. 
 
 So let us say 
 
 Those verses that you writ 
 On — well — 
 
 1 mean 
 
 The ^*90,000 worth. 
 
76 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 IV. 
 
 O Kipling, hear me yet before I die, 
 
 Hear me, R. K., 
 
 Hear me, for I will speak 
 
 And fill five pages if I burst for it. 
 
 What have you done ? 
 
 What have you brought on us ? 
 
 What yawp is this, of cooks and dukes and belt- 
 ed earls, that several happy months agone 
 Came wailing up 
 From reedy 
 Rottingdean ? 
 
 And now is chained to all the pianettes, 
 
 And all the bands, 
 
 And all the musical 
 Evenings at home ? 
 
Mr. Rudyard Kipling. 
 
 77 
 
 V. 
 
 0 Kipling, hear me yet before I die, 
 
 Hear me, R. K., 
 
 And do not laugh at me ; 
 
 1 will arise and go 
 Unto my house, 
 
 And, ere the stars come out, 
 
 Talk with my wild young Missus ; for she says 
 She never heard of Kipling, 
 
 And is not 
 
 Ashamed of the fact. 
 
 Whether this be true 
 I know not, 
 
 But I know 
 
 That wheresoe’er I am, 
 
 By night and day, 
 
 I ’m pretty tired 
 Of Kipling. 
 
Dr. Leyds. 
 
Dr. Leyds. 
 
 81 
 
 I. 
 
 Sir, — 
 
 That is to say, your Excellency, — 
 
 Of what are you a doctor ? and why are you 
 excellent ? 
 
 Eeally, truly, candidly, and without prejudice, 
 And to provide a plain answer to a pair of plain 
 questions, 
 
 I do not know. 
 
 6 
 
82 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 On referring, however, 
 
 To that Valhalla of undeparted greatness, 
 Who's Who , 
 
 I find you set forth pretty much as follows : — 
 
Dr. Leyds. 
 
 83 
 
 hi. 
 
 Leyds, Willem Johannes , 
 
 Minister Plenipotentiary 
 Of the South African Republic 
 Since 1898 : 
 
 Born at Magelang, Java, 1859, 
 
 Educated at Amsterdam University, 
 
 Doctor of Law (cum laudej 
 (Thanks, very much !) 
 
 Attorney-General, South African Republic, 1884, 
 Elected State Secretary, 1888, 
 
 Justice of the Peace for the whole Republic, 1889, 
 
 y 
 
 (Just fancy !), 
 
 Re-elected State Secretary, 1893 and 1897; 
 
 Has written a book 
 Called 
 
 De rechtsgrond dev schadevergoeding voor pveventieve 
 liechtenis 
 
 (I beg that the printers will excuse me for quoting 
 that title in full) ; 
 
 Is the possessor of sundry recreations, 
 
 Such, for example, 
 
 As gymnastics, music, and art 
 (Which hurt nobody). 
 
8 4 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 IV* 
 
 The Editor of Who's Who , 
 
 Who no doubt understands all about poets, 
 Will, I am sure, pardon my attempt 
 To infuse a little Attic grace 
 Into his bald statement of facts ; 
 
 And, that being taken for granted, 
 
 I will proceed. 
 
Dr. Leyds. 
 
 85 
 
 V. 
 
 Dr. Leyds, 
 
 I am not going to abuse you, 
 
 I am not going to throw mud at you, 
 
 I am not even going to trouble you with words of 
 wisdom, 
 
 I (these capital I’s are getting rather thick !) 
 
 I merely wish to point out, 
 
 I merely wish to assure you 
 (I think it desirable to assure you) 
 
 That, on the whole, you are a thorough Javanese 
 gentleman, 
 
 And that one way and another — 
 
 One way and another, mark me — 
 
 You have been the saviour of the South African 
 Republics. 
 
86 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VI. 
 
 For contact with you — 
 
 Affording as it has done 
 Opportunity for sizing you up, 
 
 Opportunity for observing the integrity and 
 straightforwardness of your methods — 
 Appears to have convinced the diplomacy of 
 Europe 
 
 (Which Heaven bless !) 
 
 That the South African Republics — 
 
 Or at any rate the Governments thereof — 
 
 Are not by any means so white, so innocent, and 
 so lamblike 
 
 As the genial Anglophobe would have us believe. 
 
Dr. Leyds. 
 
 87 
 
 VII. 
 
 So that the diplomacy of Europe 
 (Which Heaven bless, once more !) 
 
 Finds that it can fight shy of intervention 
 Without serious inconvenience to its conscience, 
 And this, if I may say so, 
 
 Is really charming of it* 
 
88 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Go on, my dear Dr. Leyds, 
 
 Keep on going on, as it were : 
 
 I love you, 
 
 I love you better than I love my brother 
 (I haven’t got a brother, 
 
 But never mind !) 
 
Dr. Leyds. 
 
 8g> 
 
 IX. 
 
 If you would kindly visit the United States 
 And play your excellent, plenipotential, extra- 
 ordinary Javanese game there, 
 
 I should feel tremendously obliged, 
 
 And you would be doing a distinct service 
 To the Anglo-American Alliance 
 (If there be such a thing). 
 
Sir Edward Grey. 
 
Sir Edward Grey. 
 
 93 
 
 I. 
 
 My dear Sir Edward, — 
 
 The copy-books beautifully remark : 
 
 ’Tis an ill wind that blows nobody good,” 
 
 And I think Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman’s 
 cold, 
 
 Which we all deplored, 
 
 Has, on the whole, 
 
 Been rather a good thing for you. 
 
94 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 “ Chance,” say the wise, 
 
 “ Is a fine horse ; ” 
 
 Some men can ride her, 
 
 Some men can’t : 
 
 You, Sir Edward, 
 
 Are evidently an equestrian ; 
 
 Your seat in the saddle 
 At Nottingham 
 Some months back 
 Excited the admiration 
 Of all beholders* 
 
 Including the Daily News 
 And Dr. Spence Watson — - 
 “ Nay, do not blush, pretty one! ” 
 
Sir Edward Grey. 
 
 95 
 
 III. 
 
 That last line, by the way — 
 
 A really striking line, don’t you think ? — 
 
 May be original, 
 
 Or it may be “ lifted ” : 
 
 I have a sort of recollection 
 Of having seen it in print before, 
 
 Hence its appearance between quotation marks : 
 I am poor, but honest. 
 
Pleasant Odes . 
 
 <j6 
 
 IV. 
 
 To return, however, to the matter in hand : 
 
 On the strength of your Nottingham speech 
 The Daily News proclaimed you to be a youth of 
 rare “ character ” 
 
 (How kind, eh ?), 
 
 And Dr. Spence Watson 
 
 Set you down in his tablets 
 
 For “a brave, true, and honest man” — 
 
 Pretty one. I adjure you, once again, not to blush! 
 
Sir Edward Grey. 
 
 97 
 
 V. 
 
 In fine, 
 
 The Daily News 
 
 And Dr. Spence Watson 
 
 Discovered you — 
 
 Thanks, of course, to Sir H. C.-B. s cold! 
 
 7 
 
9 S 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VI. 
 
 For my own part, 
 
 I knew you for a piece of budding greatness 
 (It hurts me to keep you on the blush, 
 
 But duty must be done) — 
 
 I knew you for a piece of budding greatness, I say, 
 The very first time I clapped eyes on you, 
 
 And that was neither yesterday nor last week. 
 Ever since, I have kept saying to myself : 
 
 “ I wonder when he will blossom ? 
 
 When will people find out what a wonderfully sane 
 little statesman it is? 
 
 When will the flowing tide take him to its broad 
 bosom 
 
 And cast him triumphantly, and with one fell cast, 
 Right onto the golden sands of popularity ? ” 
 
Sir Edward Grey . 
 
 99 
 
 VII. 
 
 And at length the thing came to pass ! 
 
 A band, hired by the National Liberal Federation, 
 
 Played “ See the Conquering Hero Comes ” in front 
 of you 
 
 (Believe me, there is absolutely no reason to blush); 
 
 There were rejoicings, and cheerings, and scenes 
 of wild enthusiasm, 
 
 And whereas of old you sat cheek by jowl with 
 the ruck, 
 
 To-day you are as “ up” as Delagoa Bay stock— 
 
 Thanks to your own merit — 
 
 And the cold 
 
 Of Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman. 
 
100 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 I am of opinion, Sir Edward, 
 
 That you are going to do considerable things for 
 the Liberal party ; 
 
 You have given it hope and inspiration already ; 
 Give it more : 
 
 It needs it. 
 
 Continue in the good path, 
 
 Nail your colours to the mast, 
 
 Go in bald-headed and for all you are worth, 
 
 And, perhaps — 
 
 One can never tell, you know — 
 
 The Liberal party may succeed in extracting 
 A backbone 
 
 Out of Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman’s 
 Cold. 
 

Mr. W. B. Yeats. 
 
Mr. W. B. Yeats. 
 
 105 
 
 I. 
 
 To “ some of us ” 
 
 The Celtic Muse 
 
 Is a real and portentous personage : 
 She hath a palace of her own 
 Wherein abide 
 The loveliest of her sons 
 And daughters. 
 
io6 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 The basement of that palace 
 Is, no doubt, occupied 
 By Mr. Dooley ; 
 
 On the ground floor, 
 
 With his finger on the pulse of poesy 
 ( Vide Sunday papers), 
 
 Sits Mr. W. P. Ryan ; 
 
 Upstairs are Mrs. Shorter — 
 
 Chieftainess of the ballad department — 
 
 And Miss Fiona Macleod, 
 
 Who sets the fashion in pseudonymous oracularity, 
 
 And is said to be 
 
 The most beautiful woman 
 
 Mr. George Meredith 
 
 Ever saw. 
 
Mr. W. B. Yeats. 
 
 107 
 
 III. 
 
 The remote attics 
 (I am still dealing with the palace) 
 Have become the possession 
 Of “A. E.,” 
 
 Seer and philosopher. 
 
 Still higher up, 
 
 On the glittering roof in fact,* 
 Dreams Mr. Yeats, 
 
 Hidden in the light of song, 
 
 And bawsking in the sweetest smiles 
 
 Of 
 
 The 
 
 Celtic 
 
 Muse. 
 
io8 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 IV. 
 
 Such, at any rate, . 
 Would seem to be the view 
 Of “ some of us/’ 
 
Mr. W. B. Yeats. 
 
 log 
 
 V. 
 
 And on the whole, perhaps, 
 
 “ Some of us ” 
 
 Are more or less right : 
 
 In any case, 
 
 I am prepared 
 To concede the palace, 
 
 I am prepared to concede Mr. Dooley his basement, 
 Mr. Ryan his ground floor, 
 
 Mrs. Shorter and Miss Macleod their upper floor, 
 “A. E.” his attics, 
 
 And Mr. Yeats his roof. 
 
 But, when it comes 
 
 To 
 
 The 
 
 Celtic 
 
 Muse, 
 
 I sneeze : 
 
 There is no such person — 
 
 That is to say, 
 
 The Muse of Mr. Yeats and his following 
 Is not Celtic at all, 
 
 But merely the late William Blake 
 Done up 
 
 In green petticoats, — 
 
 And William Blake 
 Was 
 
 A Cockney. 
 
no 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VII. 
 
 I have not the smallest desire 
 To discount 
 
 Your great gifts, Mr. Yeats; 
 
 I hold 
 
 That you have given us 
 A considerable body 
 Of decent poetry, 
 
 And I forgive you 
 
 Many things in consequence. 
 
Mr. W. B. Yeats . 
 
 hi 
 
 VIII. 
 
 At the same time, 
 
 Until you expunge “ Celtic ” 
 From among the epithets 
 Of your Muse, 
 
 Some of us 
 
 Will never feel ourselves 
 Really able 
 To swallow you. 
 

 
President Kruger. 
 
 [March 2nd, 1900.] 
 
 8 
 

 
President Kruger . 
 
 
 I. 
 
 Dear Mr. Kruger, — 
 
 You would not hearken to my counsel, 
 
 You turned a deaf ear to my epistles, 
 
 You continued in the path of frowardness, 
 
 You were fain to stagger humanity, 
 
 And, on the whole, you have got yourself into a 
 pretty mess. 
 
n6 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 II. 
 
 Deem not that I chide, dear Paul, 
 
 Deem not that I consider the war to be over, 
 Least of all deem that I desire to twit you with 
 my country’s victories ; 
 
 For, when everything is said, 
 
 My country’s victories 
 Are extremely recent, 
 
 And they have been purchased 
 Very, very dearly; 
 
 Wherefore I am not on the twit. 
 
President Kruger. 
 
 ii 7 
 
 III. 
 
 Far from it, my dear President, 
 
 Far from it, far from it ! 
 
 (Oh, how I love a fine phrase !) 
 
 I am writing to you now, as heretofore, 
 
 In a pure spirit of friendliness : 
 
 Were it not so, 
 
 I should be inditing odes to “ Bobs ” and “ Buller ” 
 and “Britannia Triumphans,” 
 
 Which are really popular subjects just now. 
 
 As it i$ I lay my numbers 
 
 At the feet of one who is neither a subject nor 
 popular, 
 
 Who is practically played out, 
 
 Whose stoep no longer counts among the seats of 
 the mighty, 
 
 And from whom I am not fool enough to expect 
 either fee or thanks. 
 
n8 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 IV. 
 
 It is now, my dear Kruger, 
 
 Two o’clock in the morning : 
 
 The patriot homeward plods his weary way, 
 Flown with Ladysmith and free beer, 
 
 For eight solid hours hath he marched and 
 countermarched , 
 
 And cheered and yelled, and indulged in harmony, 
 and thrown up his hat, and waved the red, 
 white and blue 
 Unremittingly, 
 
 And to the material interruption 
 Of my poetical labours. 
 
President Kruger . 
 
 2I 9 
 
 V. 
 
 Nathless, 
 
 I like that patriot. 
 
 If you could see him as I have seen him, dear 
 President, 
 
 You would most assuredly say with the psalmist : 
 
 “ It is time for me to bend my back and bow my 
 head ; 
 
 Most assuredly, I will try a little unconditional 
 surrender.” 
 
 You would call home your varlets from the Courts 
 of Europe, 
 
 You would cut off Leyds with ^ioo a year, 
 
 And cease to recline in the broad bosoms 
 
 Of Messrs. Courtney, Bryn Roberts, Clark, Stead 
 and Company, 
 
 You would apply for the Chiltern Hundreds, so 
 to speak. 
 
 And get away to German Damaraland, or Russian 
 Pongoland, or Araby the blest, or wherever it 
 is you propose to seek refuge, 
 
 Forthwith. 
 
120 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VI. 
 
 I tell you, that patriot means business ; 
 
 You have really roused him. 
 
 He has found out that certain things require to be 
 done ; 
 
 He is going to have them done. 
 
 In the words of the Zingari maiden of the hedonists, 
 “ Be-ware ! ! ! ” 
 
Mr. W. W. Astor. 
 
Mr. W. W. Astor. 
 
 125 
 
 I. 
 
 O, thou art fairer 
 Than the evening air 
 Clad in the beauty 
 Of a thousand stars ! 
 
 Which, if I remember rightly, 
 
 Is Kit Marlow. 
 
 Also, shake ! 
 
 Which is Bret Harte, 
 
 Or any other respectable American author 
 You care to examine. 
 
126 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 II. 
 
 Do you know, 
 
 I think there is nothing in nature 
 
 So really and interestingly beautiful 
 
 As a person possessed of unlimited means — 
 
 A person who reckons up his money with a shovel, 
 as it were, 
 
 Who is all chips and cheque-book, 
 
 Who is smiled upon fatly at banks, 
 
 And whose Income regards his Expenditure 
 With pity, scorn, and contempt. 
 
Mr. W. W. Astor. 
 
 12 7 
 
 III. 
 
 You, I am given to understand, 
 
 Are a person of this type : 
 
 Hence it comes to pass 
 
 That you have my entire approval, 
 
 And that I desire to hand you down to posterity 
 As a fit subject for odes. 
 
128 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 IV. 
 
 When you emigrated to this country 
 You did a wise thing : 
 
 We have vacancies for any number of plutocrats 
 Over here. 
 
 You purchased a newspaper 
 And a magazine : 
 
 These are now edited 
 By the nobility and gentry, 
 
 To the immense advantage and satisfaction 
 Of the proletariat. 
 
 You own a place called Cliveden, Bucks, 
 Formerly the property of the Duke of Westminster. 
 You did not give a certain dinner 
 At which innumerable reporters were privileged to 
 be present ; 
 
 But you have made up for it 
 By taking out a certificate 
 Of naturalisation. 
 
Mr. W. W. Astor. 
 
 129 
 
 V. 
 
 Which last likes me particularly : 
 
 It is the thin end of the wedge, 
 
 And, being a seer as well as a poet, 
 
 I discover great meanings in it. 
 Prophecy seldom brings a man credit, 
 Yet it is safe to hint 
 That if President McKinley, 
 
 And Admiral Dewey, 
 
 And Colonel Rooseveldt, 
 
 And Mr. Croker, 
 
 Were to follow your example, 
 
 All good Americans might do likewise ; 
 In which case 
 The Anglo-Saxon Alliance 
 Would come off with a vengeance. 
 
 9 
 
130 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Further, don’t you agree with me when I say 
 That the best thing that can happen to a man 
 Is to have a father ? 
 

 
f 
 
 § 
 
 / 
 
 
Commandant Cronje. 
 

 
 
 
Commandant Cronje. 
 
 135 
 
 I. 
 
 Dear Commandant Cronje, — 
 
 You are an unpleasant little person 
 And scarcely the person to whom to indite 
 immortal verse : 
 
 Indeed, when I mentioned your name to my Muse, 
 Who, unlike Mr. Watson’s Muse, has a sort of 
 tenderness for the British, 
 
 She wept bitterly, and observed : 
 
 “ If you write to —to — him 
 I shall go home — to Mamma, 
 
 So there ! ” 
 
 That you are great, however, 
 
 Cannot be denied ; 
 
 And, after all, 
 
 Women’s tears, 
 
 Be they shed over matters of metre or matters of 
 murder, 
 
 Should never be allowed to keep a real man from 
 his duty — 
 
 Should they, Commandant Cronje ? 
 
136 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 II. 
 
 Dear Commandant 
 
 (I call you “ dear,” of course, 
 
 In an entirely perfunctory 
 And non-committal sense), 
 
 When I read on the placards some months back : 
 
 CRONJE IN FULL FLIGHT, 
 KITCHENER IN HOT PURSUIT, 
 
 I rejoiced 
 
 And was exceeding glad, 
 
 And went merrily to lunch 
 (Which is a very good thing to do). 
 
Commandant Cronje. 
 
 *37 
 
 III. 
 
 Merrily, merrily over the snow 
 I hied me to a place where everything that is 
 eminent in Fleet Street lunches, 
 
 And where the waiters wear an unaccountable 
 look of dejection ; 
 
 I sat down opposite a gentleman who was smoking 
 the end of a cigar off* the end of a fork. 
 
 For twenty minutes he said nothing ; 
 
 At the end of that period, however, fixing me with 
 lack-lustre eye, 
 
 He trotted out the old, old, ancient and fishlike 
 query : 
 
 44 What 
 Do you think 
 Of the situation 
 In South Africa ? ” 
 
 I answered him civilly and truthfully (it is my 
 engaging habit to answer people thus). 
 
 I said, in the midst of a rather large mouthful of 
 rum omelette, 
 
 “Sir, I am incapable of thought.” 
 
138 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Here occurred one of the most fearful pauses in 
 history. 
 
Commandant Cronje . 
 
 139 
 
 V. 
 
 Then my friend with the fork demanded fiercely: 
 
 “ Do you mean to tell me, sir, 
 
 That you really believe, sir, 
 
 That a general of Cronje’s parts, sir, 
 
 A general of Cronje’s stamina (he said “ staminer ”) 
 and military genius, sir, 
 
 Would fly, sir, 
 
 Before Kitchener, sir, 
 
 Unless he had something up his sleeve, sir? 
 
 Mark my words, sir, 
 
 Within the next few days, sir, 
 
 Cronje will turn round and make a stand, sir, 
 
 And then why then, sir, 
 
 The British will get crumpled up, sir, 
 
 / 
 
 As per usual, sir ! ” 
 
140 
 
 Pleasant Odes . 
 
 VI. 
 
 Clearly it was time to pay and go : 
 I did both. 
 
Commandant Cronje. 
 
 141 
 
 VII. 
 
 The Cronjectures of the gentleman with the fork 
 Haunted me all that week. 
 
 Partially, at any rate, they were realised ; 
 
 You, my dear Commandant, 
 
 Did make a stand, 
 
 And a very fine stand it was. 
 
142 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 And yet, and yet, and yet — 
 
Commandant Cronje . 
 
 143 
 
 IX. 
 
 I wonder what the gentleman with the fork 
 Is thinking now ? 
 
The Clerk of the Weather. 
 
 [Maundy-Thursday, igoo.] 
 

 
The Clerk of the Weather . 
 
 147 
 
 I. 
 
 My dear Clerk of the Weather, — 
 
 Next week, as you know, will be a holiday week : 
 We are all going to the spas, 
 
 Or to Paris, 
 
 Or to Wembley, 
 
 Each man according to his taste — 
 
 Which is to say, 
 
 Each man according to his wife’s taste 
 And the numerical extent of his family. 
 
148 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 II. 
 
 Wherefore, sweet coz 
 
 (Excuse this little term of endearment — 
 
 It is well meant) — 
 
 Wherefore, sw r eet coz, 
 
 I venture to approach you 
 With a pleasant ode, 
 
 Hoping by this means to propitiate you, 
 
 To put you in a good humour with yourself and 
 mankind, as it were, 
 
 And to extract from you sundry favours. 
 
The Clerk of the Weather . 
 
 149 
 
 III. 
 
 I think I may venture to remark, dear sir, 
 
 That, taking you in the lump, 
 
 You are a person of infinite variety, 
 
 An out-and-out enemy of that unholy thing, 
 monotony, 
 
 A sort of meteorological quick-change artist : 
 
 Indeed, it has been asserted 
 
 By a certain jocose American 
 
 That from your British office 
 
 You never issue any real weather at all, 
 
 Contenting yourself rather 
 
 With the brisk dissemination of samples — 
 
 But that is neither here nor there. 
 
Pleasant Odes. 
 
 150 
 
 IV. 
 
 Sir, an’ it please you, 
 
 What we want for next week 
 Is sunshine in solid chunks, 
 
 Sunshine beneath which 
 
 Old and young may disport themselves 
 
 Merrily and as new-yeaned lambs, 
 
 And without fear of spoiling their gay apparelj 
 We also want specially fine mornings 
 (For it is an awful job getting the twins to the 
 station when it rains) ; 
 
 We also want mild and fairly starlight evenings, 
 In order that the adolescent among us 
 May do a little useful Spring courting 
 Without suffering thereafter from cold in the head ; 
 And lastly, we do not want anything in the way of 
 rain, hail, snow, fog, mugginess, blackness, 
 frowning, obnoxious winds, thunder, lightning, 
 or kindred phenomena. 
 
The Clerk of the Weather . 
 
 
 V. 
 
 Of course, I am well aware 
 That the Worshipful Company 
 Of Umbrella Makers and Mackintosh Manufac- 
 turers 
 
 Are, even at this present hour, 
 
 Busily importuning you 
 To make it rain like Billy-oh ; 
 
 But my good, dear, kind, honest Clerk of the 
 Weather, 
 
 You may take it from me 
 That the Company referred to 
 Do not in any way represent 
 Public feeling in this country — 
 
 Far from it, sir, 
 
 On the contrary, sir, 
 
 Quite otherwise ! 
 
152 
 
 Pleasant Odes. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And lest you should run away with an idea 
 That in imploring you to do your best for my 
 excellent friends the British public, 
 
 I am merely thinking about myself, 
 
 Let me assure you, dear sir, 
 
 That, next week, I do not propose 
 To leave the precincts of my own leasehold 
 messuage, 
 
 On the third floor of which 
 I have a snug four-poster bed, 
 
 Also a large supply of improving literature, 
 
 And several pounds of tobacco ; 
 
 With these and an occasional biscuit, 
 
 And a little wine for the stomach’s sake, 
 
 I shall be quite happy 
 
 Even though it rain pitchforks 
 
 And thunder to the tune of “Green Sleeves.” 
 
The Clerk of the Weather. 
 
 153 
 
 VII. 
 
 For all that, 
 
 Please do be kind to the British public. 
 
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 5. 
 
 6 . 
 7. 
 
 10 . 
 
 11 . 
 
 12 . 
 
 13. 
 
 14. 
 
 15. 
 
 16. 
 17. 
 
 18. 
 
 23. 
 
 24. 
 
 25. 
 
 26. 
 
 27. 
 
 28. 
 29. 
 
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 31. 
 
 32. 
 
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 34. 
 
 35. 
 
 36. 
 
 37. 
 
 38. 
 
 39. 
 
 40. 
 
 41. 
 
 46 . 
 
 CALLED BACK .... 
 BROWN EYES .... 
 DARK DAYS .... 
 FORT MINSTER, M.P. 
 
 THE RED CARDINAL 
 THE TINTED VENUS 
 JONATHAN’S HOME . 
 
 SLINGS AND ARROWS . 
 
 OUT OF THE MISTS 
 KATE PERCIVAL 
 KALEE’S SHRINE 
 CARRISTON’S GIFT . 
 
 THE MARK OF CAIN 
 
 PLUCK 
 
 DEAR LIFE 
 
 GLADYS’ PERIL .... 
 
 WHOSE HAND? or, 
 
 The Mystery of No Man’s Heath 
 
 THAT WINTER NIGHT . 
 
 THE GUILTY RIVER . 
 
 FATAL SHADOWS . 
 
 THE LOVELY WANG . 
 
 PATTY’S PARTNER . 
 
 “V.R.” A Comedy of Errors 
 THE PARK LANE MYSTERY 
 FRIEND MAC DONALD . 
 KATHARINE REGINA 
 JAN VERCLOOTZ 
 
 . HUGH CONWAY. 
 
 . MAY CROMMELIN. 
 
 . HUGH CONWAY. 
 
 . SirE.J. REED, K.C.B., M.P. 
 . Mrs. FRANCES ELLIOT. 
 
 . F. ANSTEY. 
 
 . ALAN DALE 
 . HUGH CONWAY. 
 
 . DANIEL DORMER. 
 
 . Mrs. J. COMYNS CARR. 
 
 . GRANT ALLEN. 
 
 . HUGH CONWAY. 
 
 . ANDREW LANG. 
 
 . J. STRANGE WINTER. 
 
 . Mrs. J. E. PANTON. 
 
 JOHN COLEMAN and 
 JOHN C. CHUTE. 
 
 J W. G. WILLS and 
 ( The Hon. Mrs. GREENE. 
 ROBERT BUCHANAN. 
 WILKIE COLLINS. 
 
 Mrs. L. L. LEWIS. 
 
 Hon. L. WINGFIELD. 
 JEAN MIDDLEMASS. 
 EDWARD ROSE. 
 
 JOSEPH HATTON. 
 
 MAX O’RELL. 
 
 WALTER BESANT. 
 MATTHEW STRONG. 
 
 THE CLIFF MYSTERY . 
 AS A BIRD TO THE SNARE 
 
 . HAMILTON AIDE. 
 
 . GERTRUDE WARDEN. 
 
 TRACKED OUT . . . . 
 
 A SOCIETY CLOWN . 
 
 CHECK AND COUNTER-CHECK . 
 
 THE INNER HOUSE . 
 
 A VAGABOND WILL . 
 
 PHARAOH’S DAUGHTER. 
 TROLLOPE’S DILEMMA . 
 JACQUES BONHOMME . 
 
 THE DOUBTS OF DIVES. 
 
 FAIR PHYLLIS OF LAVENDER 
 
 WHARF 
 
 HARD LUCK. . . . . 
 
 TWO AND TWO. A Tale of Four . 
 THE RAJAH AND THE ROSEBUD 
 BEHIND THE KAFES 
 THE DEMONIAC . 
 
 OUR BOYS & GIRLS AT SCHOOL. 
 THE CORONER’S UNDERSTUDY . 
 
 ARTHUR A BECKETT. 
 
 , GEORGE GROSSMITH. 
 
 ( GRANDER MATTHEWS. 
 
 X and GEORGE H. JESSOP. 
 WALTER BESANT. 
 
 W£ G. WATERS. 
 
 EDGAR LEE. 
 
 ST. AUBYN. 
 
 MAX O’RELL. 
 
 WALTER BESANT. 
 
 j- JAMES GREENWOOD. 
 
 } ARTHUR A BECKETT. 
 ELIZABETH GLAISTER. 
 WILLIAM SIME. 
 
 MARY ALBERT. 
 
 WALTER BESANT. 
 HENRY J BARKER, B.A. 
 Captain COE. 
 
 Bristol : J. W. Arrowsmith, 11 Quay Street. 
 London: Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton Kent & Co. Limited. 
 
flrrocusmith’s Bristol Library. 
 
 Fcajp. 8vo, stiff covers, 1/-; cloth, 1/6. 
 
 “Mr. Arrowsmith, since the far-off days when he discovered poor Hugh Conway, 
 has made the public his debtors for many a delightful book ."—Liverpool Post. 
 
 47. A ROMANCE OF THE MOORS . MONA CAIRD. 
 
 48. THE SHIELD OF LOVE . . . B. L. FARJEON. 
 
 49. A SPINSTER’S DIARY . . Mrs. A. PHILLIPS. 
 
 50. THE AVENGING OF HIRAM . . BENNETT COLL. 
 
 51. TRAVELLERS’ TALES . . . Edited by E. A. MORTON. 
 
 52. THE GREAT SHADOW ... A. CONAN DOYLE. 
 
 53. HARRY FORRESTER, late Blankth ^ 
 
 / A GEM OF CREMONA . . . B. M. YERE and 
 
 \ A CHEF D’CEUVRE . . . E. BLAIR-OLIPHANT. 
 
 55. THE SLAPPING SAL and . ./A. CONAN DOYLE. 
 
 OTHER TALES 
 
 56. DECEMBER ROSES 
 
 57. THE TRESPASSER . 
 
 58. THE TELEPORON and 
 
 STORIES 
 
 59. AT THE SIGN OF THE WICKET 
 
 60. CONSCIENCE MAKES THE 
 
 MARTYR 
 
 61. AN UNFINISHED MARTYRDOM 
 
 and OTHER STORIES . 
 
 62. THE INDISCRETION OF THE 
 
 DUCHESS .... 
 
 63. AN APOSTLE OF FREEDOM 
 
 64. ENGLAND v. AUSTRALIA 
 
 65. THE ADVENTURES OF ARTHUR / 
 
 R O B E RTS, by Road, Rail , and River ^ 
 
 66. IN THE SMOKE OF WAR 
 
 67. PENLEY ON HIMSELF. 
 
 68. TOLD IN THE PAVILION . . ALFRED COCHRANE. 
 
 69. HOW’S THAT? Including “ A 'l HARRY FURNISS. 
 
 Century of Grace.” Verses. Cricket VE. J. MILLIKEN. 
 
 Sketches. J E. B. V. CHRISTIAN. 
 
 MY TERRIBLE TWIN . . . FRED WHISHAW. 
 
 THE RECOVERY OF JANE VERCOE K fARWT pottpu 
 
 and OTHER STORIES . . . | MABEL QUILLER-COUCH. 
 
 THE WIZARD H. RIDER HAGGARD. 
 
 THE COUNTY CRICKET t> « rT nTM ™ 
 
 CHAMPIONSHIP . . . . j- R ev. R. S. HOLMES. 
 
 THE MILLIONAIRE OF PARKERS- 
 
 VILLE 
 
 PEPITA OF THE PAGODA 
 
 \ VARIOUS AUTHORS. 
 
 . Mrs. CAMPBELL PRAED. 
 
 . GILBERT PARKER. 
 OTHER | w . H stacpqoLE. 
 
 ’ 1 E. B. V. CHRISTIAN. 
 
 }s. M. CRAWL EY-BOEVEY. 
 
 |a. ST. JOHN ADCOCK. 
 
 | ANTHONY HOPE. 
 
 .’ J EDWIN HUGHES, B.A. 
 
 . J. N. PENTELOW. 
 
 TOLD BY HIMSELF, 
 and chronicled by 
 RICHARD MORTON. 
 WALTER RAYMOND. 
 
 JOTS 
 A DAUGHTER 
 
 OF ASTREA 
 THE WAR OF THE WENUSES 
 WILLOW AND LEATHER . 
 THE MYSTERIOUS SINGER 
 THE MONEY MARKET . . 
 THE BROWN GIRLS . . . 
 
 THE WATCHERS .... 
 
 j- MARSHALL G. WOOD. 
 
 . TIGHE HOPKINS. 
 
 * GEORGE THORNE 
 
 * E. PHILLIPS OPPENHE IM 
 J C. L. GRAVES and 
 
 * t E. V. LUCAS. 
 
 . E. V. LUCAS. 
 
 . BERNARD CAPES. 
 
 . E. F. BENSON. 
 
 . R. NEISH. 
 
 . A. E. W. MASON. 
 
 Bristol : J. W. Arrowsmith, 11 Quay Street 
 London : Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co. Limited. 
 
flrrooismith’s 3/6 Series. 
 
 Crown Svo , cloth. 
 
 Yol. I. THREE MEN IN A BOAT ... 
 
 (To Say Nothing of the Dog) 
 
 II. THE END OF A LIFE 
 
 III. DIARY OF A PILGRIMAGE ... 
 
 1Y. RECALLED TO LIFE 
 
 Y. A FRENCHMAN IN AMERICA 
 
 YI. THE SUPERNATURAL?. 
 
 YII. 
 
 Yin. 
 
 IX. 
 
 X. 
 
 XL 
 
 XII. 
 
 XII!. 
 
 XIY. 
 
 XY. 
 
 XYI. 
 
 XYII. 
 
 XYIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXL 
 
 XXII. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIY. 
 
 XXY. 
 
 XXYI. 
 
 XXYIL 
 
 XXYIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. LORD DULLBOROUGH 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 XXXIY. 
 
 XXXY. 
 
 XXXYI. 
 
 THE WHITE HAT ... 
 
 FIFTY POUNDS FOR A WIFE 
 
 A TIGER’S CUB ... 
 
 WHEN I LIYED IN BOHEMIA 
 
 THE DIARY OF A NOBODY 
 
 FLYING YISITS 
 
 “LIFE IN HIM YET” 
 
 DR. PAULL’S THEORY 
 
 CLAUD BRENNAN 
 
 /THE GREAT SHADOW and\ 
 ( BEYOND THE CITY / 
 THREE BRACE OF LOYERS 
 THE PRISONER OF ZENDA... 
 NEIGHBOURS OF OURS 
 STATION STORIES ... 
 
 PETER STEELE, THE 
 CRICKETER ... ... 
 
 DEAD MAN’S COURT 
 
 “NOT EXACTLY ” ' 
 
 MINOR DIALOGUES 
 
 GREENROOM RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 DARTMOOR 
 
 THE INDISCRETION OF THE 
 
 DUCHESS 
 
 A BRIDE’S MADNESS 
 
 Jerome K. Jerome. 
 
 Eden Phiilpotts. 
 Jerome K. Jerome. 
 Grant Allen. 
 
 Max O’Rell. 
 f L. A. Weatherly 
 IJ. N. Maskelyne. 
 Finch Mason. 
 
 A. L. Glyn. 
 
 Eden Phiilpotts. 
 Fergus Hume, 
 f George Grossmith 
 1 Weedon Grossmith. 
 Harry Furniss. 
 
 H. St. John Raikes. 
 Mrs. A. M. Diehl. 
 John Ferrars. 
 
 Conan Doyle. 
 
 Harold Yallings. 
 Anthony Hope. 
 Henry W. Ne vinson 
 Murray Cator. 
 
 ^ Horace G. Hutchin- 
 / son. 
 
 Maurice H. Hervey. 
 E. M. Stooke. 
 
 W. Pett Ridge. 
 
 A. Wm. A’Beckett. 
 Maurice H. Hervey. 
 
 | Anthony Hope. 
 Allen Upward. 
 
 THE SACK OF MONTE CARLO Walter Frith. 
 
 | Hon. Stuart 
 "* ( Erskine. 
 FIGHTING FOR FAYOUR ... W. G. Tarbet. 
 
 A POINT OF YIEW Caro. Fothergill. 
 
 BELINDA— AND SOME OTHERS Ethel Maude. 
 
 THE OTHERS— BY ONE OF M 
 THEM /H. 
 
 AN OPERA & LADY GRASMERE Albert Kinross. 
 THREE MEN ON THE BUMMEL Jerome K. Jerome. 
 
 Bristol: J. W. Arrowsmith, 11 Quay Street. 
 
 London : Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co. Limited