Ansell and myself to have tea with
some people in the neighbouring village of Little Budford. We were
waiting in the hall for the car when Seymour came along. Seymour is an
adjutant when he is not at home, and he likes to see things done with
proper military precision.

"Here," he said, "you can't go off casually like that. Fall in,
tea-party."

We fell in, and he went to the smoking-room and woke Major Stanley.

"Party for tea ready for inspection, Sir," he reported.

"Who? What? Where?" asked the Major confusedly. "Good Lord, you young
idiot, what a scare you gave me! Thought I was back in France for a
moment. Where's this party paraded?"

"Hout in the 'all, Sir." Seymour led him to where we were standing at
ease.

"Party!" he roared. "Shunsuwere!" We gave two convulsive jerks.
"Smarten up there, smarten HUP! Get a move on! This ain't a waxwork.
Shunsuwere!... Shun!! Party present, Sir."

The Major inspected us.

"I don't like this smear, Sergeant," he said, pointing to Ansell's
upper lip.

Seymour examined the feature in question.

"It don't appear to be dirt, Sir. Some sort o' growth, I think. You
try sand-papering it, me lad, an' you'll find it come orf all right."

"Very good, Sergeant," answered Ansell solemnly.

The Major proceeded to Haynes, and eyed him with disfavour.

"We can't do nothing with this man, Sir," said Seymour deprecatingly.
"'Is legs is that bandy."

"What do you mean, Private Haynes, by appearing on ceremonial parade
with a pair of bandy legs?"

"It wasn't my fault, Sir. 'Strewth, it wasn't. They got wet, Sir, an'
I went an' dried 'em at the cook'ouse fire, Sir, an' they got warped,
Sir."

"Well," said the Major, "don't bring 'em on parade again. Tell your
Q.M.S. I say you're to have a new pair."

"Very good, Sir."

The Major passed on to me, and surveyed my left arm more in anger than
in sorrow.

"Why has this man got his blue band fastened on with pins?" he
demanded. "Why isn't it sewn on? Why hasn't he fastened it on with
elastic? D'you hear me? Are you deaf? Why isn't it sewn on? Why don't
you speak?"

"Please, Sir...."

"Don't answer me back! Sergeant, take this man's name. He is insolent.
Take his name for insolence. You are insolent, Sir. You're a disgrace
to the Army. You're a ..."

"If you've quite finished with my squad, Major," put in Sister in a
quiet voice from the door, "the car is here, and we're late already. I
shall have to push a bit."

I pro