War Is The Only Game In Which

For A Laggard In Love, And A Dastard In War, Was To Wed The Fair Ellen Of Lochinvar.

I Was Born A Scotsman And A Bare One. Therefore I Was Born To Fight My Way In The World.

Never Was Flattery Lost On A Poet's Ear; A Simple Race, They Waste Their Toil For The Vain Tribute Of A Smile.

Now, It Is Well Known, That A Man May With More Impunity Be Guilty Of An Actual Breach Either Of Real Good Breeding Or Of Good Morals, Than Appear Ignorant Of The Most Minute Point Of Fashionable Etiquette.

The Happy Combination Of Fortuitous Circumstances.