reet way? When the
grooms found him he was lying on his back, legs in the air, blown up
like a poisoned pup. "Blimy," says one lad to t'other, "'ere's one of
our observation bladders the 'Un 'as brought down."

_Chestnut_. I heard the Officer boy telling the Troop Sergeant that he'd
buy a hay-stack some day and try to burst you, Tubby. The Sergeant bet
him a month's pay it couldn't be done.

_Tubby_. Just because I've got a healthy appetite--

_Brown_. Healthy appetites aren't being worn this season, Sir--bad form.
How are the politicians' park hacks to be kept sleek if the troop-horse
don't tighten his girth a bit? Be patriotic, old dear; eat less oats.

_Chestnut_. That Mess gramophone must be red-hot by now. It's been
running continuous since First Post. I suppose somebody's mamma has sent
him a bottle of ginger-pop, and they're seeing life while the bubbles
last.

_Monty_. Yes, and I suppose my young gentleman will be parading
to-morrow morning with a _camouflage_ tunic over his pyjamas, looking to
me to pull him through squadron drill.

_Iron-grey_. God save us, thin!

_A Mexican roan. Buenas noches!_

_Gunpack horse_. Hish! Orderly Officer. 'E's in the Fourth Troop lines
nah; you can 'ear 'im cursin' as he trips over the heel shackles.

_Monty_. Hush, you fellows. Orderly Officer. _Bong swar_.

* * * * *

_Once more heads and hips droop. They pose in attitudes of sleep like a
dormitory of small boys on the approach of a prefect. The line Guard
comes to life, seizes his lantern and commences to march up and down as
if salvation depended on his getting in so many laps to the hour. From
the guard-tent a trumpet wails, "Lights out."_

PATLANDER.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Venus_. "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN IN THE ARMY?"

_Mars_. "OH, ABOUT THREE CHEQUE-BOOKS."]

* * * * *

HYMN FOR HIGH PLACES.

In darkened days of strife and fear,
When far from home and hold,
I do essay my soul to cheer
As did wise men of old;
When folk do go in doleful guise
And are for life afraid,
I to the hills will lift mine eyes
From whence doth come mine aid.

I shall my soul a temple make
Where hills stand up on high;
Thither my sadness shall I take
And comfort there descry;
For every good and noble mount
This message doth extend--
That evil men must render count
And evil da