THE CUCKOO. ii 7 



Jubilee day. I think we must risk it. We 

 have done what we could to show how loyal 

 we are : we have bought a superb banner, 

 bearing, not the strange device " Excelsior," 

 but the familiar words, " God Save the Queen 

 Long Live the Empress," and suspended 

 it from the drawing-room window of our 

 house by the sea, and as the worshipful 

 mayor has not invited us to dine with him, 

 we shall take train early in the morning, and 

 once more, and for the last time for many a 

 day, try our hands at those cunning trout. 

 The wind, alas ! far from being variable, 

 seems to have taken up permanent quarters 

 a trifle north of east, so that we are rather 

 hopeful than sanguine of success. If anything 

 comes of this last excursion it shall be re- 

 ported. Anyhow, I can assure myself of this 

 consolation that it is pleasanter to have 

 the east wind blowing into and all round 

 you, over a green and yellow buttercupped 

 meadow than round the corners of dusty 

 streets. I would rather recline 



" Beneath the milk-white thorn 

 That scents the evening gale," 



and listen to the birds in the bushes and the 

 skylarks overhead, and the cuckoo far away, 

 than listen to any German band or negro 

 minstrel that haunts the sandy shore. 



