Snug at the club two fathers sat, Gross, goggle-eyed, and full of chat. One of them said: `My eldest lad Writes cheery letters from Bagdad. But Arthur?s getting all the fun At Arras with his nine-inch gun.? `Yes,? wheezed the other, `that?s the luck! My boy?s quite broken-hearted, stuck In England training all this year. Still, if there?s truth in what we hear, The Huns intend to ask for more Before they bolt across the Rhine.? I watched them toddle through the door? These impotent old friends of mine.