country road winding over the
hills of home. I refused it with the same instinctive swiftness of
decision that had brought me to the medical inspection room. And a few
moments later, I took "the King's shilling," and promised, upon my oath
as a loyal British subject, to bear true allegiance to the Union Jack.

During the completion of other, less important formalities, I was taken
in charge by a sergeant who might have stepped out of any of the
"Barrack-Room Ballads." He was true to type to the last twist in
the _s_ of Atkins. He told me of service in India, Egypt, South
Africa. He showed me both scars and medals with that air of
"Now-I-would-n't-do-this-for-any-one-but-you" which is so flattering to
the novice. He gave me advice as to my best method of procedure when I
should go to Hounslow Barracks to join my unit.

"'An 'ere! Wotever you do an' wotever you s'y, don't forget to myke the
lads think you're an out-an'-outer, if you understand my meaning,--a
Britisher, you know. They'll tyke to you. Strike me blind! Be free an'
easy with 'em,--no swank, mind you!--an' they'll be downright pals with
you. You're different, you know. But don't put on no airs. Wot I mean
is, don't let 'em think that you think you're different. See wot I
mean?"

I said that I did.

"An' another thing; talk like 'em."

I confessed that this might prove to be rather a large contract.

"'Ard? S'y! 'Ere! If I 'ad you fer a d'y, I'd 'ave you talkin' like a
born Lunnoner! All you got to do is forget all them aitches. An' you
don't want to s'y 'can't,' like that. S'y 'cawrn't.'"

I said it.

"Now s'y, 'Gor blimy, 'Arry, 'ow's the missus?'"

I did.

"That's right! Oh, you'll soon get the swing of it."

There was much more instruction of the same nature. By the time I was
ready to leave the recruiting offices I felt that I had made great
progress in the vernacular. I said good-bye to the sergeant warmly. As I
was about to leave he made the most peculiar and amusing gesture of a
man drinking.

"A pint o' mild an' bitter," he said confidentially. "The boys always
gives me the price of a pint."

"Right you are, sergeant!" I used the expression like a born Englishman.
And with the liberality of a true soldier, I gave him my shilling, my
first day's wage as a British fighting man.

The remainder of the week I spent mingling with the crowds of enlisted
men at the Horse Guards Parade, watching the bulletin boards for the
appearance of my na