* *

[Illustration: A SHORT WAY WITH TINO.

THE BIG GUN (_ringing up the Entente Exchange_). "OH, YOU _ARE_ THERE, ARE
YOU? WELL, PUT ME ON TO NUMBER ONE, ATHENS."]

* * * * *

A KNIGHT-ERRANT.

Sister Baynes came into my room just as I was putting on my out-door
uniform and wanted to know how I was spending my two hours off duty. She is
full of curiosity about--she calls it interest in--other people's affairs.
When I told her I was going out to buy a birthday present she looked rather
stern. Said she:--

"The giving of unnecessary presents has become a luxury which few of us
nowadays think it right to afford."

I didn't answer her because at the moment I could think of no really
adequate reason why Bobbie _should_ have a present, except that I so very
much wanted to give him one. Bobbie is tall and young and red-haired and,
of course, khaki clad. We are going to be married "when the War is over."

I pondered Sister Baynes' words until I reached Oxford Street, and then
forgot them in the interest of choosing the present. For a while I
hesitated between cigarettes and chocolates, and finally decided on the
latter. Bobbie is a perfect pig about sweets. I bought a
comfortable-looking box, ornamented with a St. George, improbably attired
in khaki, slaying a delightful German dragon clad in blue and a Uhlan
helmet. St. George had red hair and a distinct look of Bobbie, which was
one reason why I got him.

[Illustration: THE COMBINATION SCOOTER AND CARPET SWEEPER.

BUY YOUR SERVANT ONE AND ADD A ZEST TO HER WORK.]

This business accomplished, I thought I would call on a friend who lives
near by. She is middle-aged and rather sad, and spends her time pushing
trolleys about a munition works. Just now, however, I knew she had a cold
and couldn't go out. I found her on the floor wrestling with brown paper,
preparing a parcel for her soldier on Salisbury Plain. She adopted him
through a League, and spends all her spare time and pocket-money in socks
and cigarettes for him. She smiled at me wanly, with a piece of string
between her teeth, and I felt I simply must do something to cheer her up.

"I've brought you some chocolates for your cold," I said. "Eat one and
forget the War and the weather," and I handed her Bobbie's box. Her
necessity, as someone says somewhere, seemed at the moment so much greater
than his.

"You extravagant child!" she said, but her face lightened for