"I wonder why such things are. . . ."

* * * * * *

I am given to understand that the arrival of Bendigo Jones at the scene
of his labours the next morning caused such a sensation amongst those
privileged to witness the spectacle that the entire trench was blocked
for two hours. To only a chosen band was vouchsafed the actual sight
of the genius at work; the remainder had to be content with absorbing
his remarks as they were passed down the expectant line. And it was
doubtless unfortunate that the Divisional General should have chosen
the particular moment when the divine fire of genius was at its
brightest to visit the support line in company with his G.S.O.I. and a
galaxy of other bright and shining luminaries of the military world.

"What is the meaning of this extraordinary crush in the trench this
morning?" he remarked irritably to his Staff officer, as the procession
was again held up by a knot of interested men.

"I really don't know, sir," murmured that worthy. "It's most unusual;
it's . . ."

His words were drowned by howls of delighted laughter from round the
traverse in front, and the next moment a perspiring soldier forced his
way into the bay where the great ones were temporarily wedged. It was
the special runner who was carrying the latest gem from the lips of
Bendigo--at work a little farther up--to the expectant and breathless
audience.

"Hay! little sandbag! Ho! little sandbag! 'Ow beautiful hart thou in
textchah."

"Go on, Bill. Did the perisher say that?" An incredulous member of
the group looked doubtful.

"Did 'e say it?" The carrier of news looked scornfully at the doubter.
"Did 'e say it? Lumme! 'E said it twice, and then he buried 'is mug
in its loverly fragrant surface, and pricked his nose on Ginger's
bayonet. 'E's mad, boys; 'e's as mad as a plurry 'atter; 'e's got bats
in 'is belfry."

Now, in spite of what I know of Bendigo Jones, I must admit that this
reputed remark taxes even my credulity. Mad he undoubtedly was when
viewed by the sordid standards of the vandals around him, but this
inspiring ode to a sandbag grew somewhat, I cannot but help thinking,
in the transmission. The regrettable thing was that it should have
reached this stage when it was unwittingly presented to the Divisional
General.

"Gangway!" he roared, as the hilarity remained unabated: "gangway!" He
elbowed his way through the suddenly silent throng and confronte