_
insist on fighting _me_, I have no resource left but to fight _him_;
but for two CIVILISED nations to go to war for the settlement of a
dispute is an unreasonable and childish and silly as it would be for
two gentlemen, who should differ in opinion, to step into the middle
of a peaceful drawing-room, button up their coats, turn up their
wristbands, and proceed to batter each other's eyes and noses,
regardless of ladies, children, and valuables. War would be a
contemptible farce if it were not a tremendous tragedy."

My mother's reply to this letter was characteristic and brief.

"My dear Jeff," she wrote, "in regard to your strictures on war I have
only to say that I agree with you, as I have always done on all
points, heart and soul. Don't forget to keep your feet dry when
sleeping out at nights, and never omit to take the globules."

While I was busy at Sistova--too busy with the pressing duties of my
post to think much of absent friends, my poor servant Lancey was going
through a series of experiences still more strange and trying than my
own.

As I have said, he had been appointed by Sanda Pasha to a post in
connection with a Turkish ambulance corps. He was on his way to the
front, when the detachment with which he travelled met with a reverse
which materially affected his fortunes for some time after.

There were two Turkish soldiers with whom Lancey was thrown much in
contact, and with whom he had become very intimate. There was nothing
very particular in the appearance of the two men, except that they
formed contrasts, one being tall and thin, the other short and thick.
Both were comrades and bosom friends, and both took a strong fancy to
their English comrade. Lancey had also taken a fancy to them. It was,
in short, the old story of "kindred souls," and, despite the fact that
these Turks were to Lancey "furriners" and "unbelievers," while he was
to them a "giaour," they felt strong human sympathies which drew them
powerfully together. The name of the thick little man was Ali Bobo,
that of the tall comrade Eskiwin.

That these two loved each other intensely, although Turks, was the first
thing that touched Lancey's feelings. On discovering that Ali Bobo
happened to have dwelt for a long time with an English merchant in
Constantinople, and could speak a little of something that was
understood to be English, he became intimate and communicative.

Not more tender was the lov