_"
"One of our machines did not return."
I like to think it did not fall to earth,
A wounded bird that trails a broken wing,
But to the heavenly blue that gave it birth
Faded in silence, a mysterious thing,
Cleaving its radiant course where honour lies,
Like a winged victory mounting to the skies.
The clouds received it and the pathless night;
Swift as a flame, its eager force unspent,
We saw no limit to its daring flight;
Only its pilot knew the way it went,
And how it pierced the maze of flickering stars
Straight to its goal in the red planet Mars.
So to the entrance of that fiery gate,
Borne by no current, driven by no breeze,
Knowing no guide but some compelling fate,
Bold navigators of uncharted seas,
Courage and youth went proudly sweeping by,
To win the unchallenged freedom of the sky.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Curate (to unfailing supporter)._ "OH, MISS TOOTSBY, IT'S
GOOD TO SEE YOU HERE AGAIN. IT WOULDN'T SEEM LIKE A JUMBLE SALE WITHOUT
YOU."]
* * * * *
HEART-TO-HEART TALKS.
(_Enter PASHA and the Sultan of TURKEY._)
_The Sultan._ Then you want me to press the GERMAN KAISER to come to
Constantinople and pay me a visit.
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