ms to you?"

"That pr'aps you get to know people better if you mend all their
accidents and things. I'm awfully fond of people, they're so
intrusting, I'd rather know about them than anything."

"What sort of people?"

"The men you know, and their wives and children; they're awfully nice,
the ones I know--and if you see after them when they're ill and that,
they're bound to be a bit fond of you, aren't they?"

Major Murray gave the cold little hand in his a squeeze. "It seems to
me," he said, "that you're just the sort of chap we want. You stick to
it."

"Is it _very_ hard to get in?"

"Well, it isn't exactly easy, but it's dogged as does it, and if you
start now--why, you've plenty of time."

"That's settled then," said Ger, "and when you're Medical
Inspector-General or some big brass hat like the fat old gentleman who
came to see Ganpy yesterday--you'll say a good word for me, won't you?"

"I will," Major Murray promised, "I most certainly will."

"You see," Ger continued, beaming through his spectacles, "if there's
war I should be bound to go, they can't get on without the Ram Corps
then, and I'd be doing things for people all day long. Oh, it would be
grand."

"It strikes me," said Major Murray, more to himself than to Ger, "that
you stand a fair chance of getting your heart's desire--more than most
people."

"I'm very partikler about my nails now," said Ger. "I saw you
scrubbing yours that day at the Cadet Hospital."

When he got home Mrs Ffolliot retired to her room and cried long and
heartily, but Ger never knew it. His spectacles to him were a joy and
a glory, and he confided to the Kitten that _his_ guardian angel,
Sergeant-Major Spinks, did sentry beside them every night so that they
shouldn't get lost or broken.

"My angel's in prizzen," the Kitten announced dramatically.

"In prison!" exclaimed Ger, "whatever for?"

"For shooting turkeys," the Kitten replied, "an' he's all over
chicken-spots."

"Why did he shoot turkeys for?"

"'Cause he wanted more feathers for his wings."

"But that wouldn't give him chicken-spots."

"No, _that_ didn't--he got them at a pahty, like you did last
Christmas."

"Poor chap," said Ger, "but I can't see why he stays in prison when he
could fly away."

"They clipped his wings," the Kitten said importantly, "an' I'm glad;
he can't come and bother me no more now."

"I hope Spinks won't go shooting fowls and things in his off-time," Ger
said anxio