to the
headquarters building he made a bee line for the C. O.'s house, where
he at once took off his coat and went down on his knees to scrub the
pantry. Two hours afterward, when the drill sergeant's work was done
in the riding hall and he discovered that Kettle had not reported
himself to the officer of the day, the sergeant walked over to the C.
O.'s house and sent in a respectful request to see the commanding
officer.

"Come in, Sergeant," called out Colonel Fortescue, sitting at his desk.

"Beg your pardon, sir," said the Sergeant, once inside, "but I have
come to you privately, to tell you about your man, known as Kettle. He
came into the riding hall this morning, and Sergeant Gully and Sergeant
Halligan said he enlisted. Of course, I know, sir, they couldn't
enlist him, but I'm afraid I helped 'em on with the joke. Anyhow, I
made him get on a horse, and it would have broke your heart, sir, to
see such riding! Then he got sassy, and I told him, just to get rid of
him, to report himself under arrest, but nobody hasn't seen him since."

At that moment, the new recruit was seen passing the window, and
wearing blue over-alls, in which he did scrubbing. The Colonel tapped
on the window and Kettle came in by the office entrance.

"What's this, Solomon, about your being saucy to Sergeant Briggs?"
asked Colonel Fortescue, sternly.

"Well, suh, I enlisted," answered Kettle, promptly, "an' I done
resigned. I tole that there Briggs man so, and lef' the drill hall and
come home, 'cause it was scrub day."

"Three days in the guardhouse," thundered the Colonel, in a voice
terrible to Kettle.

Sergeant Briggs, touching his cap, walked out, Kettle following him.
At the door stood Mrs. McGillicuddy holding in her arms the After-Clap,
in all his morning freshness, his little white fur cap and coat showing
off his eyes and hair, so dark, like his mother's. The After-Clap gave
a spring which he meant to land him in Kettle's arms, but Kettle,
bursting into tears, would not take him.

"I k'yarn' take you now, honey," cried Kettle, wiping his eyes, "I'm a
goin' to the guardhouse, my lamb, for three days and maybe I never see
you no mo'."

The baby seemed to think this might be true, and set up a series of
loud shrieks.

"Do you mean to say as you've tried to enlist?" cried Mrs.
McGillicuddy, struggling with the baby and her astonishment and
indignation all at once. "The idea of you being a soldier! It beats
the