icer is put through it. And by way of a speech he says:
"Suppose, instead of cheering me, you cheer the fellows who have
landed at Suvla?"

"Highland Honours!" yells a voice. And the seniors rise, stand upon
their chairs, put one foot on the table amongst the plates, and,
raising their glasses, join in the musical honours given to the new
army at Suvla.

Major Hardy is called, and a speech demanded from him. Loudly
applauded, he limps to the middle of the saloon, puts his monocle in
his eye, and says one sentence: "I never heard such bloody nonsense
in all my life." Releasing his monocle so that it falls on his
chest, he limps back to his seat, and apologises to Monty.

The seniors having been thus sporting, it occurs to some bright
young devil that it would be a graceful thing to sing "Home, sweet
Home" to them, as they finish their meal. And "Home, sweet Home"
leads naturally to "Auld Lang Syne," sung with linked arms and
swaying bodies.

And then the crowd of subalterns, worked up by the licence allowed
it, like a horse excited by a head-free gallop, returns in force to
the lounge. The pianist strikes up "The Old Folks at Home." A
Scotsman breaks in with the proclamation that It's oh! but he's
longing for his ain folk; Though he's far across the sea, Yet his
heart will ever be Away in dear old Scotland with his ain folk. And
an Irishman, feeling that there's too much of Scotland about these
songs, begins to publish the attractions of the hills of Donegal:

"And, please God, if He so wills,
Soon I'll see my Irish hills,
The hills of Donegal, so dear to me."

Then the piano rings out with ancient dance-tunes, and Harry
Fenwick, prince of dancers, seizes Edgar Doe round the waist, and,
clasping the slim youth to him, leads the boy (who's as graceful as
a girl and as sinuous as a serpent) through the voluptuous movements
of the latest dance. Up and down go their outstretched arms like a
pump handle, but oh! so sweetly; round and round with eyes
half-closed swirl their bodies; and, just as you think they are
going round again, they surprise you by teasingly stepping out the
music in a straight line across the lounge; and, when you least
expect it, they are retracing dainty steps along the same straight
line--always seductive, tantalising, enticing.

But stop the dance. Here arrives Major Hardy to a din of welcome.
And under his instructions they burn the champagne corks, and
ther