In Residence

TRAVERSE OF THE AIGUILLES ROUGES 57 (5) It was three o’ the morn and the night was outworn ; We broke fast on Maggi and Cotton, We said Cecil’s jest was a gibe of the best, And of Morris’s yarns—“ that’s a hot ’un.” (6) We spoke of the mountains, the weather, the rope, In a tongue that was doubtfully British ; We summed up in three words Philosophy’s scope ; Of women we said—“ they are skittish.” (7) We gained the low snows, and each rubbed his cold nose As we lunched upon Cotton and Maggi ; We observed, “we are neat from our felts to our feet,” But remarked of our chins—“ they are shaggy.” (8) Arolla appears. There were no hearty cheers And no one was anxious about us: “If horrid young fools will break Alpine Club rules ”— In fact, they could get on without us! (9) We sprawled in the sun when the banquet was done (We had feasted on Bouvier 1 and Mauler’”), You said of my knickers—they are not a vicar’s ; It isn’t a hole, it’s a howler ! 1 His champagne. 2 His champagne.