Epilogue.

And yet, that is not all to say. There was the tennis that went on all the time, mighty champions competing; there was the photograph taken at the Tournament on Easter Monday; there was the private visiting, those delightful little unions over morning tea; there was the excitement and the bated breath over the strike at the end; there was the good grip of the hand as one more good thing of life drew to its finish, the last ring at the 'phone, the last cheery grin from old-time brother-in-arms. So it passes. The first quarter-century is over and done with, not entirely without glory, not without the heat and dust of the conflict. So it passes. A quarter-century more before the next milestone. Well, what says the poet?

"When the task is grey in the doing,
And heavy the load on the wain,
It heartens to see a yoke fellow
Brace shoulders that bunch to the strain;
To know the team's work is divided,
That taut is the leading-chain."

Let us get down to it.