they were talking over the merits of the different non-commissioned
officers.

"I don't believe I shall ever make a good soldier, Drew," he said.

"What!" was the reply; and then, "Why?"

"Oh, I suppose I've got my whack of what some people call brute courage,
for as soon as I get excited or hurt I never think of being afraid, but
go it half-mad-like, wanting to do all the mischief I can to whoever it
is that has hurt me; but what I shall always want will be the cool, calm
chess-player's head that helps a man to take advantage of every move the
enemy makes, and check him. I shall always be the fellow who shoves out
his queen and castle and goes slashing into the adversary till he
smashes him or gets too far to retreat, and is then smashed up himself."

"Well, be content with what you can do," said Lennox, "and trust to the
cool-headed man as your leader. You'll be right enough in your way."

"Thankye. I say, how a trip like this makes you think of your men and
what they can do!"

"Naturally," said Lennox.

"One of the things I've learnt is," continued Dickenson, "how much a
regiment like ours depends on its non-commissioned officers."

"Of course," replied Lennox. "They're all long-experienced,
highly-trained, picked men. See how they step into the breach sometimes
when the leaders are down."

"By George, yes!" whispered Dickenson enthusiastically.--"Oh, bother
that stone! Hff!--And I hope we sha'n't have them stepping into any
breaches to-night."

"Why?"

"Why! Because we don't want the leaders to go down."

"No, of course not," said Lennox, laughing softly. "But, talking about
non-commissioned officers, we're strong enough. Look at James."

"Oh yes; he's as good as a colonel in his way."

"And the other sergeants too."

"Capital, well-tried men," said Dickenson; "but I was thinking of the
corporals."

"Well, there's hardly a man among them who mightn't be made a sergeant
to-morrow."

"Hum!" said Dickenson.

"What do you mean?" cried Lennox shortly.

"What I say. Hum! Would you make that chap Corporal May a sergeant?"

"Well, no: I don't think I would."

"Don't think? Why, the fellow's as great a coward as he is a sneak."

"Don't make worse of the man than he is."

"I won't," said Dickenson. "I'll amend my charge. He's as great a
sneak as he is a coward."

"Poor fellow! he mustn't come to you for his character."

"Poor fellow! Yes, that's what he is--an awfully poor fello