CHARM OF SPORT AMID THE HILLS 5 
Or has the enclianting task grown tougher, 
And has that arrow beyond you flown ? 
For the hill that was rough enough is rougher, 
The steepest climb that was ever known, 
And the forest appals a veteran duffer 
Sorely beaten and blown ? 
Oh ! the years, the years, they be rusty and mothy ; 
Oh ! the flesh it is weak that once was strong ; 
But the brown burn under the stone falls frothy 
And the music it makes is a siren song ; 
Then the pony '11 take you as far as the bothy, 
And that '11 help you along. 
See ! from the tops the mist is stealing, 
Out with the stalking-glass for a spy ; 
Round Craig an Eran an eagle's wheeling 
Black in the blue September sky. 
A fig for the years ! Why, youth and healing 
At the end of your journey lie. 
(Reprinted from Punch, Sept. 14, 1921, by kind permission of the 
Pniprietors.) 
