the landladies crazy! Hurrah for the fragments of boulders, Surpassing in size and in weight, To be carried home on the shoulders And laid on the table in state! Hurrah for the flying-machine Long buried from sight in a cupboard, With bones that would never have been Desired of old Mother Hubbard! p. 101Hurrah for the hazardous boat, For the crabs (of all kinds) to be caught, For the eggs on the surface that float, And the lump-sucker curiously wrought! p. 101 Hurrah for the filling of tanks In the shanty down by the shore, For the Royal Society’s thanks, With Fellowships flying galore! Hurrah for discourses on worms, Where one listens and comes away With a stock of bewildering terms, And nothing whatever to pay! Hurrah for gadding about Of a Saturday afternoon, In the light of research setting out, Coming home in the light of the moon! p. 102Hurrah for Guardbridge, and the mill Where one learns how paper is made! Hurrah for the samples that fill One’s drawer with the finest cream-laid! p. 102 Hurrah for the Brewery visit And beer in liberal doses! In the cause of Science, what is it But inspecting a technical process? Hurrah for a trip to Dundee To study the spinning of jute! Hurrah for a restaurant tea, And a sight of the Tay Bridge to boot! Hurrah, after every excursion, To feel one’s improving one’s mind, With the smallest amount of exertion, And that of the pleasantest kind! p. 103IMITATED FROM WORDSWORTH p. 103 He brought a team from Inversnaid To play our Third Fifteen, A man whom none of us had played And very few had seen. He weighed not less than eighteen stone, And to a practised eye He seemed as little fit to run As he was fit to fly. He looked so clumsy and so slow, And made so little fuss; But he got in behind—and oh, The difference to us! p. 104REFLECTIONS OF A MAGISTRAND
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