Rev. F. H. Barnby, b Schofield

spring as in summer, but still there are some who are prepared to face the changes of the fickle weather in order that they may escape the scenes of their ordinary life. This year, however, the would-be tourist is daunted by tales of trenches so high and so-far reaching that it is impossible to catch a glimpse of the swelling wave, or of wire entanglements so dense and so prickly that not even a mouse can make his way through for his morning bathe in the briny. We also had heard of fond paterfamiliases who, in an excess of excitement at the tardy following of their flocks, had gesticulated with umbrellas from the cliff-top and been arrested as signalling to the Germans.

Undeterred by these fearsome rumours we betook ourselves to (censored) where we hoped to be able to get a distant view of the native element. We were crowned with sucess for the place was not honeycombed with trenches nor intersected with barbed wire. On the contrary the trenches were few. This we suppose was due to the height of the cliffs. But as we grew more familiar with our surroundings, we found cleverly concealed machine gun proof emplacements and covered-in trenches. In one place indeed we met with a rude shock as two of us were scrambling up the cliff, we saw an interesting shelter which we wished to examine, but, coming suddenly round a corner, we came face to face with the following notice :— O.H.M.S. Trespassers will be shot.

This was interesting but discouraging, so we went home.

Another point of interest was a new 9" gun just brought, which was mounted on a railway truck and had special lines on the top of a high headland near. This caused great excitement as on the day after our arrival it was tested (most considerately from our point of view). Three shots were fired, the last being a target at the gun's extreme range of eight miles, and it blew the target to pieces, which was quite worthy the annals of British shooting.

It happened that two of us went for a walk one evening up the cliff to see the view and we came near the gun. We conversed for a time with the sentry and then turned back. On the way

I166 ON THE PASSING OF AN OLD FRIEND.

home we turned aside to search for a plover's nest, and this led us round so that we came up on a different side of the gun. We then noticed three sentries meet near the gun and seem to point to us and one of them followed us all the way home. Another result of the military occupation was that it was impossible to walk along the sands beyond a certain place. We consulted an officer on this and he answered : " Oh no, you can't get beyond. The 5th Blankshires are there and they shoot at their own officers if they go in front of the sentries. They aren't safe, by Jove !"

Nevertheless in spite of all these preparations for the reception of the ubiquitous German it was quite possible to put in a very respectable holiday..

May I remain, Yours ever, Lupus.

ON THE PASSING OF AN OLD FRIEND.

It is our sad but pressing duty to inform the world that an old and respected friend has gone from amongst us. For many years a feature of the School, he has done his best to preserve the venerable appearance of the place. But a new, comfort-loving corporation has decreed his removal. I speak of course of the Clifton Road. For many years travellers have been impressed by the characteristics of this way, and we have even heard sundry ill-spoken comments upon the pleasures of riding over it. But these were doubtless uttered by thoughtless passengers who have long since regretted their folly. Nevertheless our ancient friend has been ruthlessly torn up, and replaced by a surface which we might venture to call smooth. But only fond remembrances are left of the road which is passed ; and with its passing have also gone those chances of comparison which men were wont to make. For they could say :"Behold two roads, the road to learning, and the road to grief.