es of Putney), that he, Cornelius
Gosling-Green, Esq., M.P., should be stuck there like a common soldier,
with a heavy and dangerous gun and a nasty sharp-pointed bayonet, to
stand and shiver while others slept. To stand, too, in a horribly
dangerous situation ... he had a good mind to resign in protest, to take
his stand upon his inalienable rights as a free Englishman. Who should
dare to coerce a Gosling-Green, Member of Parliament, of the Fabian
Society, and a hundred other "bodies". His Superiora did all the
coercing he wanted and more too. He would enter a formal protest and
tender his resignation. He had always, hitherto, been able to protest
and resign when things did not go as he wished.

He yawned, and again.

"I can see as well sitting or kneeling as I can standing," he remarked
to Private Augustus Grobble.

"It is a great physiological truth," replied Augustus, and they both sat
down, leaning against each other for warmth and support, back to back.

The soul of Augustus was filled with a melancholy sadness and a gentle
woe. To think that he, the loved of many beautiful Wimmin should be
suffering such hardships and running such risks. How his face was
falling in and how the wrinkles were gathering round his eyes. Some of
the beautiful and frail, of whom he thought when he gave his usual toast
after dinner, "To the Wimmin who have loved me," would hardly recognize
the fair boy over whom they had raved, whose poems they had loved, whose
hair, finger-nails, eyes, ties, socks and teeth they had complimented. A
cruel, cruel waste. But how rather romantic--the war-worn soldier! He
who knew his Piccadilly, Night Clubs, the theatres, the haunts of fair
women and brave men, standing, no--sitting, on a lonely hill-top
watching, watching, the lives of the garrison in his hands.... He would
return to those haunts, bronzed, lined, hardened--the man from the edge
of the Empire, from the back of Beyond, the man who had Done Things--and
talk of camp-fires, the trek, the Old Trail, smells of sea and desert
and jungle, and the man-stifled town, ... battle, ... brave deeds ...
unrecognized heroism ... a medal ... perhaps the ... and the nodding
head of Augustus settled upon his chest.

His deep breathing and occasional snores did not attract the attention
of Private Gosling-Green, as Private Gosling-Green was sound asleep. Nor
did they awaken the weary four who made up the sentry group--Edward
Jones, educationist; Henry Gri