has no' gotten your length yet. Maybe it never wull.
There's mony a thing in this worrld with one man's name on it that
finds its way intil the inside of some other man." He fixed Tosh with
a relentless eye. "A bit ham, for instance!"

It was a knock-out blow.

"For ony sake," muttered the now demoralised Tosh, "drop the subject,
and I'll gie ye a bit ham o' ma ain! There's just time tae cook it--"

"What kin' o' a fire is this?"

A cold shadow fell upon the group as a substantial presence inserted
itself between the debaters and the wintry sunshine. Corporal
Mucklewame was speaking, in his new and awful official voice, pointing
an accusing finger at the fire, which, neglected in the ardour of
discussion, was smoking furiously.

"Did you wish the hale wood tae be shelled?" continued Mucklewame
sarcastically. "Put oot the fire at once, or I'll need tae bring ye
all before the Officer. It is a cauld dinner ye'll get, and ye'll
deserve it!"

IV

In the fire-trench--or perhaps it would be more correct to call it the
water-trench--life may be short, and is seldom merry; but it is not
often dull. For one thing, we are never idle.

A Boche trench-mortar knocks down several yards of your parapet.
Straightway your machine-gunners are called up, to cover the gap
until darkness falls and the gaping wound can be stanched with fresh
sandbags. A mine has been exploded upon your front, leaving a crater
into which predatory Boches will certainly creep at night. You summon
a _posse_ of bombers to occupy the cavity and discourage any
such enterprise. The heavens open, and there is a sudden deluge.
Immediately it is a case of all hands to the trench-pump! A better
plan, if you have the advantage of ground, is to cut a culvert under
the parapet and pass the inundation on to a more deserving quarter. In
any case you need never lack healthful exercise.

While upon the subject of mines, we may note that this branch of
military industry has expanded of late to most unpleasant dimensions.
The Boche began it, of course--he always initiates these undesirable
pastimes,--and now we have followed his lead and caught him up.

To the ordinary mortal, to become a blind groper amid the dark places
of the earth, in search of a foe whom it is almost certain death to
encounter there, seems perhaps the most idiotic of all the idiotic
careers open to those who are idiotic enough to engage in modern
warfare. However, many of us are as much at