60 STUDIES OF NATURE 



dispose ourselves in half a dozen groups. One 

 of our young swains makes music on his pipe ; 

 my friend John More murmurs appropriate 

 lines from the Choric song in the * Lotos Eaters/ 

 about hearing the downward stream with half- 

 shut eyes. Then it is proposed that we should 

 make nonsense-verses, and the Eeckless Bhyme- 

 ster, lying on his back and watching the smoke 

 curl from his cigarette, finishes that amusement 

 with the following lune : 



Sing you a song of Loch Eanza, 



And knock it all off in a stanza ; 



There's a castle, the mountains, a bay, 

 And an inn, where they frizzle all day 



Enough for the paunch of a Panza, 

 The herrings they catch in the bay 

 At Loch Eanza. 



After this the Moralist threatens to visit the 

 Ehymester with a ' chunk of old red sandstone'; 

 or, at the least, to lame him with reasons ; and 

 so we strike our tent and descend for the sea. 



At Loch Kanza we lunch and take tea, 

 always with the accompaniment of herrings, 



