iend,
An' finished the night in the shop.
I served my time for a sergeant;
The colonel 'e sez No!
The most you'll be is a full C.B.'[*]
An'--very next night 'twas so.

[*] Confined to barracks.

Chorus--"Ho! don't you go for a corp'ral
Unless your 'ead is clear;
But I was an ass when I was at grass.
An' that is why I am 'ere.

"I've tasted the luck o' the army
In barrack 'an camp 'an clink,
And I lost my tip through the bloomin' trip
Along 'o the women an' drink,
I'm down at the heel o' my service,
An' when I am laid on the shelf,
My very wust friend from beginning to end,
By the blood of a mouse, was myself.

Chorus--"Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says,
An' don't go for the beer;
But I was an ass when I was at grass,
An' that is why I'm 'ere."

"Ay, listen to our little man now, singin' and shoutin' as tho' trouble
had never touched him! D'ye remember when he went mad with the
homesickness?" said Mulvaney, recalling a never-to-be-forgotten season
when Ortheris waded through the deep waters of affliction and behaved
abominably. "But he's talkin' the bitter truth, tho'. Eyah!

"'My very worst friend from beginning to end,
By the blood of a mouse, was mesilf.'

Hark out!" he continued, jumping to his feet. "What did I tell you,
sorr?"

Fttl! spttl! whttl! went the rifles of the picket in the darkness, and
we heard their feet rushing toward us as Ortheris tumbled past me and
into his greatcoat. It is an impressive thing, even in peace, to see
an armed camp spring to life with clatter of accouterments, click of
Martini levers, and blood-curdling speculations as to the fate of
missing boots. "Pickets dhriven in," said Mulvaney, staring like a
buck at bay into the soft, slinging gloom. "Stand by an' kape close to
us. If 'tis cav'lry, they may blundher into the fires."

Tr--ra ra! ta--ra--la! sung the thrice-blessed bugle, and the rush to
form square began. There is much rest and peace in the heart of a
square if you arrive in time and are not trodden upon too frequently.
The smell of leather belts, fatigue uniform, and unpacked humanity is
comforting.

A dull grumble, that seemed to come from every point of the compass at
once, struck our listening ears, and little thrills of excitement ran
down the faces of the square. Those who write so learnedly about
judging distance by sound should hear