o haunt the Consular office babbling of his influential relations and
his "temporary embarrassment."

When war broke out he had thrown up the sponge altogether and "gone
yellow"; was living from hand to mouth among the Chinese. At the
end of August a ship touched at that Far Eastern port, picking up
volunteers for the Western Front. The port contributed a goodly
number, but there remained one berth vacant. The long-suffering Consul
had a stroke of inspiration. Here was a means of at once swelling
the man-power of his country and ridding himself of a pestilent
ne'er-do-well. His boys, searching far and wide, discovered John
Fanshawe in the back premises of a Malay go-down, oblivious to all
things, and bore him inanimate aboard ship.

In this manner did our hero answer The Call.

In due course he appeared in our reserve squadron and was detailed
to my troop. It did not take me many days to realise that I was up
against the most practised malingerer in the British (or any
other) army. Did a fatigue prove too irksome; did the jumps in the
riding-school loom too large; did the serjeant speak a harsh word unto
him, "The Beachcomber" promptly went sick. Malaria was his long suit.
By aid of black arts learned during those seven years sojourning with
the heathen Chinee he could switch malaria (or a plausible imitation
of it) on or off at will and fool the M.O.'s every time. I used to
interview them about it, but got scant sympathy. The Healers' Union
brooks no interference from outsiders.

"Look here, that brute's bluffing you," I would protest.

To which they would make reply, "Can you give us any scientific
explanation of how a man can fake his pulse and increase his
temperature to 102 deg. by taking thought? You can't? No, we didn't
suppose you could. Good day."

One person, however, I did succeed in convincing, and that was the
C.O., who knew his East. "Very good," said he. "If the skunk won't
be trained he shall go untrained. He sails for France with the next
draft."

Nevertheless our friend did not sail with the next draft. Ten minutes
after being warned for it, the old complaint caught him again, and
when the band played our lads out of barracks he was snugly tucked
away in sick-bay with sweet girl V.A.D.'s coaxing him to nibble a
little calves-foot jelly and keep his strength up. Nor did he figure
among either of the two subsequent drafts; his malaria wouldn't hear
of it.

I went back to the land of fireworks