He came and spluttered it all out to me afterwards, concluding with “I der-didn’t let the ker-company down this time, Sir, der-did I?” and evidently expected a pat on the back for it.

Teams of infuriated artillery horses wouldn’t drag from me whether he got it or not, but from that day to this he has never looked back.  Indeed he has begun to take a pride in his personal appearance and general smartness.  I met him yesterday wearing a smile like a slice of melon and with his boots, and buttons glistening in the sunshine.

“The General came through to-day, Sir,” he said, beaming, “and he her-had a pup-pass all right;” and he strutted on, making strange noises in his throat, which I understand is the Yiddish for being pleased with yourself.

L.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Alf.  “AIN’T YOU GOIN’ TO EAT ANYFINK, ’ERBERT?”

’Erbert (four years in France).  “WELL, MY OLD FAM AIN’T TURNED UP WITH MY BIT OF DAYJERNY.”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Visitor to devastated area.  “JOHN CHINAMAN LIKEE MUCHEE DLESSEE ALLEE SAMEE ENGLISH SOLDIER.”

Chinese Ganger.  “WELL, SIR, I DON’T CONCERN MYSELF MUCH ABOUT UNIFORM.  ACTUALLY I’M A JOURNALIST AND ONLY CAME OUT HERE FOR THE EXPERIENCE.”]

* * * * *

    “General wanted; small family; cook wept; wages
    L18-L20.”—­Local Paper.

We confess we should like to know the cause of cook’s affliction.  Was it jealousy, or onions?

* * * * *

TO CHLOE, CAUGHT SPRING-CLEANING.

  Now wherefore should you be dismayed
    And in confusion fall,
  Because I spied on you arrayed
    In cap and overall,
  And saw you for a moment stand
  Clenching a duster in your hand?

  The morning ardour of your face
    Was like a summer rose;
  One sooty smudge but seemed to grace
    The challenge of your nose;
  The gaudy thing that hid your hair
  Performed its office with an air.

  There is a time for stately tire,
    For frills and furbelows,
  When dainty humours should inspire
    Such vanities as those;
  So for stern hours of high intent
  Behoves a fit habiliment.

  Did not those gallants win our pride
    And heroes stand revealed,
  Who flung their fineries aside
    For fashions of the field? 
  I, who have known campaigning too,
  Salute a kindred soul in you.

* * * * *

THE OVERLAND ROUTE.

    “H.M.S.  New Zealand, with Admiral Jellicoe on board,
    arrived at Bombay on March 14, and left for Delhi on
    the 15th.”—­Scots Paper.

* * * * *