Railway Rondos.

We will now close the meeting, happy reader, with a round of rondos on the railway. Considering that our train of thought has followed the lines of Happiness, and that this magazine, like its readers, is devoted to the railway, it is flitting that we should flit with the Iron Duke along the only permanent way:—

Oh, I crave the peace of the long steel track,
With an air cushion tucked in the small of my back,
With the landscape unfolding like film on a reel,
And a stop now and then for a rattling meal.
Oh, I crave for the comfort and ease for the brain,
That's waiting, yes waiting, for me in the train.
No dust in the glottis, no corners to cut,
No racketing road-hogs, no tyres to go “phut,“
No cramp in the crumpets, no pain in the dome,
No feeling that fain would I rather be home,
But absolute peace in the body and brain,
That's waiting, yes waiting, for me in the train.
The Iron Duke's a friend whom I loved in my youth,
And he still claims my love and affection forsooth,
There's something about him so sturdy yet trim,
That—hang it—I simply can't help loving Him.

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