I was out early to-day, spying about br From the top of a haystack -- such a lovely morning -- br And when I mounted again to canter back br I saw across a field in the broad sunlight br A young Gunner Subaltern, stalking along br With a rook-rifle held at the read, and -- would you believe it? -- br A domestic cat, soberly marching beside him. br br So I laughed, and felt quite well disposed to the youngster, br And shouted out "the top of the morning" to him, br And wished him "Good sport!" -- and then I remembered br My rank, and his, and what I ought to be doing: br And I rode nearer, and added, "I can only suppose br You have not seen the Commander-in-Chief's order br Forbidding English officers to annoy their Allies br By hunting and shooting." br But he stood and saluted br And said earnestly, "I beg your pardon, Sir, br I was only going out to shoot a sparrow br To feed my cat with." br So there was the whole picture, br The lovely early morning, the occasional shell br Screeching and scattering past us, the empty landscape, -- br Empty, except for the young Gunner saluting, br And the cat, anxiously watching his every movement. br br I may be wrong, or I may have told it badly, br But it struck me as being extremely ludicrous.