THROUGH A GLASS LIGHTLY
of all them that love their Burton and their Lamb. And, there is ’63; and thereby hangs a tale: for a reserve cuvée of him lay long unknown in the Reform Club cellars; and it had been there unto this day, had not a misguided Committee invited the Devonshire to sojourn for a while. There was a second Exodus of the Chosen People, as erst of their fathers under Pharaoh. And centuries of persecution were avenged in six weeks; and the face of ’63 has vanished from the R.C. list.
Of ’65,’70,’75, and ’78 you shall easily judge for yourselves. Last, but not least, is the Port of Victoria’s first Jubilee. That our Sovereign should rule an Empire over which the sun sets not is a trifle, an astronomical juggle, a common jingo yawp. The true secret of her strength lies here: that at
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