I was out early to-day， spying about

　　From the top of a haystack —— such a lovely morning ——

　　And when I mounted again to canter back

　　I saw across a field in the broad sunlight

　　A young Gunner Subaltern， stalking along

　　With a rook-rifle held at the read， and —— would you believe it？ ——

　　A domestic cat， soberly marching beside him.

　　So I laughed， and felt quite well disposed to the youngster，

　　And shouted out "the top of the morning" to him，

　　And wished him "Good sport！" —— and then I remembered

　　My rank， and his， and what I ought to be doing：

　　And I rode nearer， and added， "I can only suppose

　　You have not seen the Commander-in-Chief's order

　　Forbidding English officers to annoy their Allies

　　By hunting and shooting."

　　But he stood and saluted¹

　　And said earnestly， "I beg your pardon， Sir，

　　I was only going out to shoot a sparrow

　　To feed my cat with."

　　So there was the whole picture，

　　The lovely early morning， the occasional shell

　　Screeching² and scattering³ past us， the empty landscape， ——

　　Empty， except for the young Gunner saluting⁴，

　　And the cat， anxiously watching his every movement.

　　I may be wrong， or I may have told it badly，

　　But it struck me as being extremely ludicrous.

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