Colonel
Dearman, as he hurried out to meet the General, scoring his right boot
with his left spur and tripping over his sword _en route_.

* * * * *

The General greeted the Colonel as a total stranger, addressed him as
"Colonel," and said he anticipated great pleasure from this his first
visit to the well-known Gungapur Fusiliers. He did, and he got it.

Dismounting slowly and heavily from his horse (almost as though "by
numbers") the General, followed by his smart and dapper Brigade-Major
and the perspiring Colonel Dearman, strode with clank of steel and
creak of leather, through the Headquarters building and emerged upon the
parade-ground where steadfast stood seven companies of the Gungapur
Fusilier Volunteers in quarter column--more or less at "attention".

"'Shun!" bawled Colonel Dearman, and those who were "at ease" 'shunned,
and those who were already 'shunning took their ease.

"'_Shun_!" again roared the Colonel, and those who were now in that
military position relinquished it--while those who were not, assumed it
in their own good time.

As the trio drew nigh unto the leading company, Captain Trebizondi,
coyly lurking behind its rear rank, shrilly screamed, "'A' Gompany!
Royal Salutes! Present Arrrrms!" while a volunteer, late a private of
the Loyal Whitechapel Regiment, and now an unwilling member of this
corps of auxiliary troops, audibly ejaculated through one corner of his
mobile mouth:--

"Don't you do nothink o' the sort!" and added a brief orison in
prejudice of his eyesight.

Certain of "A's" stalwarts obeyed their Captain, while others took the
advice of the volunteer--who was known to have been a man of war in the
lurid past, and to understand these matters.

Lieutenant Toddywallah tugged valiantly at his sword for a space, but
finding that weapon coy and unwilling to leave its sheath, he raised his
helmet gracefully and respectfully to the General. His manner was always
polished.

"What the devil are they doing?" inquired the General.

"B," "C," "D," "E," "F," and "G" Companies breathed hard and protruded
their stomachs, while Sergeant-Instructor Progg deserved well of Captain
Schloggenboschenheimer by sharply tugging his tunic-tail as he was in
the act of roaring:--

"_Gomm_--!" the first syllable of the word "Company," with a view to
bestowing a royal salute likewise. Instead, the Captain extended the
hand of friendship to the General as he approached