_The Clerk._ The Director-General replies, sir, that in the early days of the British Army, when the Army Clothing Department's sole issue was a supply of woad, a tooth, or indeed a nail, might have reasonably been indented for as a weapon, but that, owing to the introduction and perfection of fire-arms, such weapons are now obsolete and cannot be issued.

_The Officer._ And now the Medical Service refuse to help us.

_The Clerk._ Yes, sir. They cannot bring the fixing of it under the head of surgical operations, and the Surgeon-General points out very justly, if I may be permitted to say so, sir, that a seal-pattern false tooth could hardly be considered a "medical comfort."

_The Officer._ What are we to do? The Colonel of the regiment is evidently furious.

_The Clerk._ We might send the correspondence to the Inspector of Iron Structures. He may be able to do or suggest something.

_The Officer._ Very well; and will you send off this telegram to my wife saying I have a long evening's work before me, and that I shall not be able to get back to dinner to-night? (_Exit the Clerk._) Whenever will they trust a General Commanding a District to spend for the public good on his own responsibility a sum as large as a schoolboy's allowance, and so take some of the unnecessary work off our shoulders?

[_He tackles wearily another file of papers._

[Ill.u.s.tration: UNDER COVER.

"So glad to see you, Mrs. Bamsby! And how is your dear husband? Where _is_ the Colonel? I was only saying the other day, 'I wonder when I shall see Colonel Bamsby!'"

_Mrs. Colonel B._ "You'll see him _now_, my dear if I just step aside, or you walk round me."]

[Ill.u.s.tration: EASTER MANOEUVRES.

_Adjutant._ "Your orders are that when you are attacked, Captain Slasher, you are to fall back slowly."

_Capt. Slasher._ "In which direction am I to retire, sir?"

_Adjutant._ "Well, the proper way, of course, would be over that hill, but--_they intend to have lunch behind that farmhouse in the valley._"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: "SYNONYMOUS."

_Instructor._ "Now, I've explained the different 'sights,' you, Private Dumpy, tell me what a fine 'sight' is. Describe it as well as you can----"

_Private Dumpy._ "A fine sight, sir? A fine sight--(_pondering_)--'s a magnificen' spe'tacle, sir!!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: VOLUNTEER MANOEUVRES

_Sergeant._ "Can I do anything for you, captain?"

_Captain._ "Why, thanky, sergeant. If you wouldn't mind giving my other leg a hitch over!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MULTUM IN PARVO

_Inspecting Officer._ "How is it your khaki is so much too small?"

_Stout Yeoman._ "It do seem a bit skimpy, sur. But tailor says as how I'm bound to grow a 'eap smaller on hactive service, an' 'e's allowin'

for shrinkage."

INSTRUCTIONS TO NAUTICAL MEN IN THE n.o.bLE ART OF QUADRILLE DANCING

LE PANTALON.--Haul upon the starboard tack and let the other craft pa.s.s--then bear up and get your head on the other tack--regain your berth on the port tack--back and fill with your partner and boxhaul her--wear round twice against the sun in company with the opposite craft, then your own--afterwards boxhaul her again and bring her up.

L'ETE.--Shoot ahead about two fathoms till you nearly come stem on with the other craft under weigh--then make a stern board to your berth and side out for a bend, first to starboard, then to port--make sail and pa.s.s the opposite craft--then get your head round on the other tack--another side to starboard and port--then make sail to regain your berth--wear round, back and fill and boxhaul your partner.

LA POULE.--Heave ahead and pa.s.s your adversary yard-arm to yard-arm--regain your berth on the other tack in the same order--take your station in a line with your partner--back and fill--fall on your heel and bring up with your partner--she then manoeuvres ahead and heaves all aback, fills and shoots ahead again and pays off alongside--you then make sail in company, till nearly stem on with the other line--make a stern board and cast her off to shift for herself--regain your berth in the best means possible, and let go your anchor.

LA TRENISE.--Wear round as before against the sun twice, boxhaul the lady, and range up alongside her, and make sail in company--when half-way across to the other sh.o.r.e drop astern with the tide--shoot ahead again and cast off the tow--now back and fix as before and boxhaul her and yourself into your berth, and bring up.

LA PASTORALE.--Shoot ahead alongside your partner, then make a stern board--again make all sail over to the other coast--let go the hawser, and pay off into your own berth and take a turn--the three craft opposite range up abreast towards you twice, and back astern again--now manoeuvre any rig you like, only under easy sail, as it is always "light winds" (zephyrs) in this pa.s.sage--as soon as you see their helms down, haul round in company with them on port tack--then make all sail with your partner into your own berth, and bring up.

LA FINALE.--Wear round to starboard, pa.s.sing under your partner's bows--sight the catheads of craft on your starboard bow--then make sail into your own berth--your partner pa.s.sing athwart your bows--now proceed according to the second order of sailing--to complete the evolutions shoot ahead and back astern twice, in company with the whole squadron, in the circular order of sailing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WHAT THE "BRITISH GRENADIER" IS INEVITABLY COMING TO

Some talk of Alexander, and some of Pericles, Of Hector and Lysander, and such old guys as these; But of all the horrid objects, the "wust" I do declare, Is the Prusso-Rus...o...b..lgo-Gallo-British Grenadier.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THE RESERVE FORCES."

_Militia Officer._ "Augh!--a new man. Ah--'ve you been in 'service before?"

_Recruit._ "Yes, sir."

_Officer._ "Augh--what regiment?"

_Recruit._ "Mrs. Wiggins's coachman, sir!!"]

[Ill.u.s.tration]

THE END