ives him
one_), at the same time advising you, if called upon to use it in the
heat of action, to be prepared with the knowledge I have endeavoured
to impart to you to-day, and, above all things, to keep your head
cool. I don't think I have anything more to add, ATKINS. I have made
myself pretty clear?

_Tommy Atkins_ (_with a grin_). 'Ees, Sir!

_Military Instructor_. And there is nothing more you wish to ask me?

_Tommy Atkins_ (_still grinning_). Noa, Sir!

_Military Instructor_. Ah! well then, good morning. I trust you will
find it, what they assure me it is,--a most serviceable weapon.

_Tommy Atkins_ (_saluting_). 'Ees, Sir!

[_Exit, still grinning as Act-Drop descends._

ACT II.--_The Scene represents a Field of Battle (after the fight)
in the immediate neighbourhood of London._ TOMMY ATKINS _and the_
Military Instructor _discovered lying badly wounded amidst a heap of
the slain. A European War having broken out suddenly, from which the
Country could not escape, and the Fleet at the last moment, finding
that it had only half its proper supply of guns, and that the very few
of these which did not burst at the first shot had ammunition provided
for them that was two sizes too large, the Country is invaded, while a
Committee of Experts is still trying to settle on a suitable cartridge
for the new Magazine Rifle. The result is, that after a couple of
pitched battles, though in an outburst of popular fury_, Mr. STANHOPE
_is lynched by the Mob to a lamp-post in Parliament Street, London
capitulates, and the French Commander-in-Chief, breakfasts, waited on
by the_ LORD MAYOR, _in the Bank of England._

_Military Instructor_ (_sitting up and rubbing his eyes_). Dear me!
we seem to have been beaten. That Rifle was no good, after all.
(_Recognising him._) Halloa, ATKINS!

_Tommy Atkins_ (_with a grin_). 'Ees, Sir!

_Military Instructor_. You remember all I told you?

_Tommy Atkins_ (_still grinning_). 'Ees, Sir!

_Military Instructor_. I'm afraid that wasn't such a serviceable
weapon, after all!

_Tommy Atkins_ (_still grinning_). Noa, Sir!

_Military Instructor_. Dear me! Well, we had better get out of this!
By Jove! it looks like the last Act!

[_Mutually assist each other to rise and quit the
Battle-field, the_ Military Instructor _threatening to write
to the "Times," and_ TOMMY ATKINS _still grinning as Curtain
falls._

* * * * *

[Illustration: