SONGS OF SIMLA.

IV.--MRS. HAWKSBEE.

Hazards beset her social groove;
Dilemmas rise--she wriggles free;
Landslip or earthquake cannot move
Her imperturbability.

Where 'er she goes her presence thrills,
And in her youthfulness there shines
The everlasting of our hills,
The evergreenness of our pines.

Hung in a poise that knows no law
The kestrels watch above the trees,
But never was kestrel yet that saw
The half that Mrs. Hawksbee sees.

Rosy and smiling mid her furs
Along the Mall her way she trips
With subalterns whose worship stirs
The cynic swiftness of her lips.

When Jakko-wards her rickshaw sweeps,
The monkeys scamper o'er the grass,
And breathlessly each rascal peeps
To see the Queen of mischief pass.