ar, when I was residing in a small garrison town on the Rhine,
German military men would draw me aside and ask of me my own private
personal views as to the conduct of the campaign. I would give them my
views freely, explain to them how I would finish the whole thing in a
week.

"But how in the face of the enemy's tactics--" one of them would begin.

"Bother the enemy's tactics," I would reply. "Who cares for tactics?"

"But surely a British general--" they would persist. "Who's a British
general?" I would retort, "I am talking to you merely as a plain
commonsense man, with a head on my shoulders."

They would apologize for their mistake. But this is leading me away from
that German _Kurhaus_.

Recreation for the Higher clergy.

My clergyman friend found life there dull. The generals and the
spinsters left to themselves might have played cards, but they thought of
the poor bishops who would have had to look on envious. The bishops and
the spinsters might have sung ballads, but the British general after
dinner does not care for ballads, and had mentioned it. The bishops and
the generals might have told each other stories, but could not before the
ladies. My clergyman friend stood the awful solemnity of three evenings,
then cautiously felt his way towards revelry. He started with an
intellectual game called "Quotations." You write down quotations on a
piece of paper, and the players have to add the author's name. It roped
in four old ladies, and the youngest bishop. One or two generals tried a
round, but not being familiar with quotations voted the game slow.

The next night my friend tried "Consequences." "Saucy Miss A. met the
gay General B. in"--most unlikely places. "He said." Really it was
fortunate that General B. remained too engrossed in the day before
yesterday's _Standard_ to overhear, or Miss A. could never have again
faced him. "And she replied." The suppressed giggles excited the
curiosity of the non-players. Most of the bishops and half the generals
asked to be allowed to join. The giggles grew into roars. Those
standing out found that they could not read their papers in comfort.

From "Consequences" the descent was easy. The tables and chairs were
pushed against the walls, the bishops and the spinsters and the generals
would sit in a ring upon the floor playing hunt the slipper. Musical
chairs made the two hours between bed and dinner the time of the day they
all looked f