for demanding
an interview; but one bout of it satisfied most people. It may be
suggested that the scouts were acting under instructions from Sir
Reginald Brade, Secretary and Grand Master of the Ceremonies, in this
matter. But, if asked, he will own up and admit that in the pressure
of his duties he overlooked the point, and that the entire credit
belongs to the boys.

Still, perambulation of those furlongs of corridor in the big building
in Whitehall might have offered points of interest to a visitor not
too exhausted to take notice. By one window was usually to be seen a
posse of parsons, of furtive aspect, each nervously twiddling a lissom
hat, a love-your-neighbour-as-yourself look frozen on their
countenances, and not by any means conveying for the time being an
impression of the church militant: they were candidates for the post
of army chaplain, and were about to be inspected by the genial prelate
who presided over the department responsible for the spiritual welfare
of the troops. A day or two later might be seen in the same place some
of these very candidates, decked out in khaki raiment, hung about with
contrivances into which combatant comrades introduce implements for
slaying their fellow-men, erect, martial, terrifying, the very
embodiment of the church triumphant, having been accepted for the job
and awaiting orders--and no men have done finer service in the Great
Adventure.

At another point one encountered a very well-known cricketer, who was
doling out commissions. How he did it one had no time to ask. But one
strongly suspected that, if one of the young gentlemen whom he took in
hand had been in a school eleven or even house eleven (or said he
had), crooked ways somehow became straight.

Just outside my own door an attractive-looking civilian had devised a
sort of wigwam within which he took cover--one of those arrangements
with screens which second lieutenants prepare when there is a
regimental dance, and which they designate, until called to order, as
"hugging booths." There he was to be seen at any hour of the day in
close communion with a fascinating lady, heads close together,
murmuring confidences, an idyll in a vestibule--or rather a succession
of idylls, because there was a succession of ladies, all of them
different except in that all of them were charming. After two or three
months he disappeared, and only then did it occur to me to ask what
these intimate transactions were on which he h