The day I saw the Wind I stood
  All by myself inside our wood,
  Where Nurse had told me I must wait
  While she went back through the white gate
  To fetch her work ...  I don’t know why,
  But suddenly I felt quite shy
  With all the trees when Nurse was gone,
  For quietness came on and on
  And covered me right round as though
  I was just nobody, you know,
  And not a little girl at all... 
  But then—­quite sudden—­HER torn shawl
  Came through the trees; I saw it gleam,
  And SHE was near.  Just like a dream
  She looked at me.  Her lovely hair
  Was waving, waving everywhere,
  And from her shawl—­all tattery—­
  There blew the sweetest scents to me. 
  I didn’t ask her who she was;
  I didn’t need to ask, because
  I knew! ...  That’s all ...  She didn’t wait;
  She went—­when Nurse called through the gate.

* * * * *

    “HOT WATER BATTLES—­Best quality rubber, from 4/3 each.” —­Parish
    Magazine.

A new kind of tank warfare, we suppose.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  OUR DANCING MEN.

“WHO’S THE SLIGHTLY ANCIENT DAME THAT THAT KID BINKS HAS BEEN DANCING WITH ALL THE EVENING?”

“I DUNNO.  YOUNG BINKS DOESN’T EITHER.  BUT HE SAYS SHE’S THE ONLY WOMAN IN THE ROOM WITH A GLIMMERING OF HOW TO ‘JAZZ.’".]

* * * * *

THOUGHTS IN COMMITTEE.

  The War decays; the Offices disperse,
  And after many a bloomer flies the don;
  All kinds of Bodies perish with a curse,
  And only my Committee lingers on,
  Still rambles gaily in the same old rings,
  Still sighs, “At any rate, we are at one”;
  Yet even here, so catching, are these things,
  Something, I think, is going to be done.

  For me, I would not anything were done,
  But would for ever sit on this soft seat
  Each sweet recurrent Saturday, and run
  An idle pencil o’er the foolscap sheet,
  The free unrationed blotting-pad, and scrawl
  Delightful effigies of those who speak,
  But not myself say anything at all,
  Only be mute and beautiful and meek ...

  Are there not Ministers and ex-M.P.’s,
  A Knight, a Baronet, a Brigadier? 
  Is it not wonderful to be with these,
  To watch, and after in the wifely ear
  Whisper, “This morning I exchanged some words
  With old Sir Somebody, who thought of Tanks;
  I saw the Chairman of the Board of Birds;
  I said, ‘How are you?’ and he answered, ‘Thanks’”?

  So let us sit for ever—­and expand;
  Let us be paid, not properly, but well. 
  Let more men come, all opulent and bland,
  So that we qualify for some hotel,
  So that, as all the Constitution grows
  From little seeds long buried in the past,
  We too may be a part of it!  Who knows? 
  We may become a Ministry at last.