vate Smithers sighed again, deeply, and thought more.

"Do you hear what I said, sir?" roared the Sergeant.

"Yes, Sergeant; but you said I wasn't to speak."

"On duty, sir."

"Am on duty," growled the private.

"Well, I said speak, but I meant chatter," cried the Sergeant. "You may
speak now, and answer my question. I said do you know what would happen
if you went to sleep?"

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Well, what?"

"Snore," growled the man.

"Yah! You are turning into a fool. Don't you think you would fall down
if you went to sleep?"

"No, Sergeant. When I go off on duty I always stand stiff as a ramrod."

"Oh! Then you confess, sir, you do go to sleep on sentry?"

"Think I did once, Sergeant, but I warn't sure."

"Well, now then, look here. You are the most troublesome man in your
company, and you are not worth your salt, but your commanding officer
doesn't want to put the War Office to the expense of sending you home;
and I don't want to have to put a fatigue party to the trouble of
digging a hole for you in this nasty, swampy jungle earth, with more
expense caused by the waste of ammunition in firing three volleys over
your grave."

"No, Sergeant; that would be 'ard."

"Bah! Of course not," growled the Sergeant. "I made a mistake. You
wouldn't be there to bury, because as sure as you stand there, and go to
sleep, one of them twelve-foot long lizardly crocs as you have seen
hundreds of times lying on the top will be watching you, with his eyes
just out of the water, and as soon as ever you are fast he will crawl
out and have you by the leg and into the river before you know where you
are. So if that happens, be careful and leave your rifle ashore."

"Yes, Sergeant, I'll mind," said the man coolly.

"Silence in the ranks!" cried the Sergeant again, for there was the
beginning of a chuckle.--"Now then," he continued, "that's all. Don't
forget the word--Aldershot; and--oh, keep a very sharp lookout for
boats, for that's the only way an enemy can approach the campong--Eh,
what?" said the Sergeant, in response to a growl.

"What shall I do, Sergeant, if one of them big evats comes at me? Am I
to fire?"

"Fire? No! What for? Want to alarm the camp?"

"No, Sergeant. I don't mind tackling a real enemy, but if it was one of
them scaly varmints he would alarm me."

"Never mind; you are not to fire."

"Well, what am I to do, then, sir?"

"Fix bayonets and let him have it. Tenderest place