y Hunnish friend," said the A.P.M.

"No prisoners," replied Summersby shortly.

"I hope you handed the swine over to the P.M.," said the Camp
Commandant.

"Well, no," said Summersby. "You see he had a plausible explanation--by
the way, what perfect English those German officers talk; I'll bet that
man has eaten our bread and salt some time. He said it was a Brigade
order to the men not to make the taking of prisoners a pretext for going
back to the rear in large parties but to leave them to the supports when
they came up. The curious thing is that that officer belongs to the
112th and we've our eye on the 112th. One of their men, a fellow named
Schmidt, who surrendered on the 19th of last month, said they'd had an
order to take no prisoners but kill them all. His regiment was the
112th," he added darkly.

"The filthy swine!" we cried in a chorus, and our talk grew sombre as we
exchanged reminiscences.

"What pleases me about you fellows," said Ponsonby, who had been
listening with a languid air, and who was formerly in the F.O. where he
composed florid speeches in elegant French for Hague Plenipotentiaries,
"is your habits of speech. In diplomacy we contrive to talk a lot
without saying anything, whereas Army men manage to talk little and say
a great deal. You've got four words in the Army which seem to be a
mighty present help in trouble at H.Q. Their sustaining properties are
remarkable and they seem to tide over very anxious moments. When you
are in a hole you say 'Damn all,' and when you are asked for
instructions you cry 'Carry on.' I suppose it's by sitting tight and
using those words with discrimination that you fellows arrive at
greatness and attain Brigadier rank. That seems to be the first thing a
third-grade staff-officer learns."

"The first thing a third-grade staff-officer learns is to speak
respectfully of his superiors," said the A.P.M., as he hurled a cushion
at Ponsonby, who caught it with a bow. Ponsonby is irrepressible and, in
spite of his supercilious civilian airs, much is forgiven him. He turned
to the D.A.A.G. and said, "Hooper, you've forgotten to say grace. For
what we have _not_ received"--he added, with a meaning glance at a
Stilton cheese which the A.A.G.'s wife has sent out from home and which
remained on the sideboard--"the Lord make us truly thankful." This was
an allusion to the D.A.A.G.'s sacerdotal functions. For the
Adjutant-General and his staff, who know the numbers of all t