t little bundle of fun a-coming."

"Have you seen it, Jacko?"

"Yes, it rolled into the sap, and I've had it put into the fire-trench.
I'm taking it back to blow it up. I think it's a percussion fuse, but it
seems fairly safe. I've sent for a stretcher to carry it on."

"Let's go and have a look at it."

The two officers walked down the sap and back into the trench, and
started to investigate with a professional eye the object lying on the
fire-step. Apparently of steel, and painted a dull grey, it looked
harmless enough--but all those little love offerings of the Hun are
treated with respect. About the size of an ordinary rum jar, with a fuse
of sorts in place of a neck, it was at the time an unknown brand of
abomination, to them at any rate.

"It differs only in appearance, I fear," remarked the Captain, after
inspecting it gingerly, "from other presents they give us. Its object is
undoubtedly nefarious. Where do you propose to blow it up?"

"In that little quarry near the Ritz. Will that do all right?"

"Most excellently." With a smile he looked at his watch. "Just set your
watch by mine, Jacko--and poop it off at 10.5 ak emma. Do you take me?"

The other looked puzzled for a moment; then his face cleared.

"I'd forgotten for the moment that Centre Battalion Head-quarters was not
far from the quarry," he grinned. "Sir--I take you."

"My dear boy, the day is hot, and the Pumpkin is fat, and the flies are
glutinous. He doesn't want to see the trenches any more than I do--and
one's mission in life is to anticipate the wishes of the great."

It was just as he finished speaking that from up the line in the
direction of the Haymarket there came four dull, vicious cracks in
succession, and some clouds of black smoke drifted slowly over his head.

"Just about No. 7 T.M. emplacement," he muttered to himself. "I hope to
heavens . . ."

"Put it on the stretcher carefully, boys." His subaltern was speaking to
the two men who had arrived with a stretcher. "Have you got the slab of
gun-cotton?"

"Corporal 'Amick 'as gone to get it at the store, sir. He's a-going to
meet us at the quarry."

"Right-ho! Walk march."

The cavalcade departed, and the Captain resumed his morning walk, while
his thoughts wandered to the beer which is cold and light yellow. For
many weary months had he taken a similar constitutional daily; not always
in the same place, true; but variety is hard to find in the actual
tr