Virtues Neglected

SPECTATOR COMPETITION No. 219 Report by W. May-Byron

Work is soon to begin on the restoration of the Albert Memorial. Temperance has a cracked head, Fortitude is broken and Humility holds a wobbling candle. The usual prize was offered for a conversation between two onlookers inspired by this theme or, alternatively, not more than 12 lines of verse on the subject. Competitors were free to imagine what improbable injuries they chose and were reminded that Continental groups, .Industrial Arts and many musicians and artists as .well as the moral virtues figure on the Memorial.

" ape the Hun: Complete the wholesome deed by him begun. How better Temperance looks without her head! Improve her still: her vapid body shed. Where Art has mercifully lost her sight Let be, lest Albert's form renew her fright. Musicians, brought by loud discord to tears, For pity's sake demand to lose their cars . . . But this is piecemeal work ! Admit my plea And blow the whole thing up with T.N.T. '

form amidst so much change and decay. H. A. C. Evans came near, but needed more matter to match his art, while William Evans displayed" more matter with less art." A little more polishing up, and he would have been among the prizewinners.

PRIZES

(P. At.) Allegro (con brio) for the Ministry of Works.

Haste thee MOW and bring with thee First-aid for this masonry.

Mirth, chap-fall'n, no longer smiles, Temperance has hit the tiles, Scotia here has lost her cheek, Llewelyn's helmet springs a leak.

Come and chip it as you're bid Round this fantastic pyramid, But if restoring you must do, MOW admit me of thy Crew With unreproved licence free To try a bit Moore artistry.

(R. KENNARD DAVIS)

(Twilight. Voices from aloft on the Memorial.) "How goes it, Temperance?"

"Rotten, Fortitude!

A splittin' head! An' you don't look too goodl

What's hit you?" "Rations, prices, hopes deferred Of Peace and Comfort, till, 1 give my word, I'm almost finished!"

"How's old Industry?"

"Lyin' down, mostly! Look at Purity!

Wants a good cleaning, she does!"

"Poetry there Is limping, with his feet all anywhere!"

"Just see them Continents! Europe doing splits, And half of Asia crumbling into bits!"

"I hear they're going to mend us."

"S'wclp me Bobl "The chap as tries it ain't got half a job!"