of the lamplight's circle. The
victim of this extraordinary attack dodged the missile, then grovelled
after it in the gutter. Meanwhile the fat man (instantaneously ceasing
to be jolly) gave vent to an angry protest.

"Wotcher do _that_ for? Chuckin' my spoons abart! Drunk, that's wot you
are!"

"Ain't drunk!" said the soldier.

"Wotcher chuck my spoon at 'im for, then? 'E ain't done you no 'arm."

"Yus 'e _'as_," was the soldier's surprising retort.

"No 'e ain't."

"Yus 'e _'as_."

"No 'e 'ain't. 'E ain't done you no 'arm."

To which the derelict chimed in (he had retrieved the spoon and now
advanced timidly with it under the awning): "I ain't done _you_ no
'arm"--a husky, whimpering chorus to his fat patron.

The soldier fixed the derelict with a fierce glare. "Yus you _'ave_," he
reiterated.

I was wondering how the dispute might develop, but evidently my ear is
unattuned to the nuances of these dialectics. The soldier's glare and
the soldier's tone must have betrayed themselves to the two other men as
factitious; the derelict, anyhow, lost his nervousness and, approaching
nearer, scanned the soldier with dim, peering eyes; then broke into a
joyous grin and exclaimed:

"Lumme, if it ain't ol' Bert!"

And the fat man, leaning on his counter, and likewise examining the
soldier, cried, "Ol' Bert it is!"

"Knew you in two ticks," grunted Bert. "Same ol' 'Arry." (This was the
derelict.) "Same ol' 'Erb." (This was the fat--and once again
jolly--man.)

Explanations ensued. Bert, the young soldier, was a native of these
parts. He had emigrated to Canada five years previously. To-night, _en
route_ for the front, he had returned. Earlier in the evening there had
been ill-advised libations; he had started for his home, felt sleepy,
sheltered from the wet in a tunnel quite familiar to him, and there been
discovered by the ladies and roused by myself. Arrived at the
coffee-stall he had recognised in its proprietor a former pal and
another former pal in 'Arry the derelict. To throw the spoon at 'Arry
was merely his playful mode of announcing his identity.

I left the trio reviewing the past and exchanging news of the present.
My services, it was clear, would no longer be required by the prodigal.
He and his mates gave me a hearty good-night.

I did not guess how intimate was soon to be my association with the
Berts and 'Arries and 'Erbs of the world. I was to be their servant, to
wait upon them, to perform