e a string of pearls ter me-ee ... Grrr,
Nellie, stop kickin'!" The range of desolate hills in the background is
flickering with gun-flashes and grumbling with drum-fire--the Bosch
evensong.

A bay horse (shifting his weight from one leg to the other)._
Somebody's catching it in the neck to-night.

_A chestnut_. Yep. Now if this was 1914, with that racket loose, we'd be
standing to.

_A gunpack horse_. Why?

_Chestnut_. Wind up, sonny. Why, in 1914 our saddles grew into our backs
like the ivy and the oak. In 1914--

_A black horse_. Oh, dry up about 1914, old soldier; tell us about the
Battle of Hastings and how you came to let WILLIAM'S own Mounted
Blunderbusses run all over you.

_A bay horse_. Yes, and how you gave the field ten stone and a beating
in the retreat to Corunna. What are your personal recollections of
NAPOLEON, Rufus?

_Chestnut_. You blinkin' conscripts, you!

_Black._ Shiss! no bad language, Rufus--ladies present.

_Chestnut_. Ladies, huh. Behave nice and ladylike when they catch sight
of the nosebags, don't they?

_A skewbald mare_. Well, we gotta stand up for our rights.

_Chestnut_. S'truth you do, tooth and hoof. What were you in civil life,
Baby? A Suffragette?

_Skewbald_. No, I wasn't, so there.

_Bay_. No, she was a footlights favourite; wore her mane in plaits and a
star-spangled bearing-rein and surcingle to improve her fig-u-are; did
pretty parlour tricks to the strains of the banjo and psaltery.
_N'est-ce pas, cherie?_

_Skewbald_. Well, what if I did? There's scores of circus-gals is
puffect lydies. I don't require none of your familiarity any'ow, Mister.

_Bay_. Beg pardon. Excuse my bluff soldierly ways; but nevertheless take
your nose out of my hay-net, please.

_A Canadian dun_. Gee! quit weavin' about like that, Tubby. Can't you
let a guy get some sleep. I'll hand you a cold rebuff in the ribs in a
minute. Wazzer matter with you, anyhow?

_Tubby_. Had a bad dream.

_Black_. Don't wonder, the way you over-eat yourself.

_Bay_. Ever know a Quartermaster's horse that didn't? He's the only one
that gets the chance.

_Skewbald_. And the Officers' chargers.

_Voice from over the way_. Well, we need it, don't we? We do all the
bally head-work.

_Bay_. Hearken even unto the Honourable Montmorency. Hello, Monty there!
Never mind about the bally head-work, but next time you're out
troop-leading try to steer a course somewhat approaching the straight.
You had the l