Conclusive!

ConclusiveConclusive!Volunteer Colonel(swell brewer). "I'm afraid, Mr. Jenkins, you had been indulging in potations that were too strong for you!"[Private J. was being "called over the coals" for insubordination atthe inspection.Private Jenkins(who is still wearing his bayonet on the wrong side). "Oh, I couldn't have been drunk, sir, for I never had no more than one pint o' your ale all the blessed day!"

Volunteer Colonel(swell brewer). "I'm afraid, Mr. Jenkins, you had been indulging in potations that were too strong for you!"

[Private J. was being "called over the coals" for insubordination atthe inspection.

Private Jenkins(who is still wearing his bayonet on the wrong side). "Oh, I couldn't have been drunk, sir, for I never had no more than one pint o' your ale all the blessed day!"

a simple English missRegister-keeper."Major Jones first to count. A miss—nothing."Major Jones."I say, sergeant, that's almost an Irish bull, I fancy!"Register-keeper."No, sorr, just a simple English miss!"

Major Jones."I say, sergeant, that's almost an Irish bull, I fancy!"

where's your swordOur Yeomanry.Sergeant Major."Number three, where's your sword?"Recruit(who finds practice very different from theory). "On the ground. Carn't see 'un?"

Sergeant Major."Number three, where's your sword?"

Recruit(who finds practice very different from theory). "On the ground. Carn't see 'un?"

IArmy Reform

Scene.—The drawing-room of the Colonel's quarters, decorated with trophies from many lands and water-colour sketches. Mrs. Bulkwise, the Colonel's wife, a tall, broad and assertive lady, is giving tea to Mrs. Lyttleton-Cartwright, with the stamp of fashion upon her, and Mrs. Karmadine, who has a soul for art—both ladies of the regiment. Colonel Bulkwise, a small and despondent man whose hair is "part-worn" gazes morosely into the fire.

Mrs. Bulkwise(waving a tea cup). As surely as woman is asserting her right to a place in medicine, in law, and in the council, so surely will she take her proper place in the control of the army.

Mrs. Lyttleton-Cartwright.What a lovely costume one could compose out of the uniform. I've often tried Jack's tunic on.

Mrs. B.(severely). The mere brutal work of fighting, the butchery of the trade, would still have to be left to the men; but such matters as require higher intelligence, keener wit, tact, perseverance, should be, and some dayshallbe, in our hands.

Mrs. Karmadine.And the beauty and grace of life, Mrs. Bulkwise. Surely we women, if allowed, could in peace bring culture to the barrack-room, and garland the sword with bay wreaths?

Mrs. B.Take the War Office. I am told that the ranks of the regiments are depleted of combatant officers in order that they may sit in offices in Pall Mall, and do clerical work indifferently. Now, I hold that our sex could do this work better, more cheaply, and with greater dispatch.

Mrs. L.-C."Pall-Mall" would be such an excellent address.

Mrs. B.The young men, both officers and civilians, who are employed waste, so I understand, the time of the public by going out to lunch at clubs and frequently pause in their work to smoke cigars and discuss the odds. Now a glass of milk, or some claret and lemonade, a slice of seed-cake, or some tartlets, brought by a maid from the nearest A. B. C. shop would satisfy all our mid-day wants.

Mrs. L.-C.And I never knew a woman who couldn't work and talk bonnets at the same time.

Mrs. C.Just a few palms—don't you think, Mrs. Bulkwise?—in those dreary,drearyrooms, and some oriental rugs on the floors, and a little bunch of flowers on each desk would make life so much easier to live.

[Colonel Bulkwise murmurs something unintelligible.

Mrs. B.What do you say, George?

Colonel B. (with sudden fierceness).I said, that there are too many old women, as it is, in the War Office.

Mrs. B.George!

[The colonel relapses again into morose silence.

Mrs. B.The Intelligence Department should, of course, be in our hands.

Mrs. L.-C.I should just love to run about all the time, finding out other people's secrets.

Mrs. B.And the Clothing Department calls for a woman's knowledge. The hideous snuff-coloured garments must be retained for warfare, but with the new costume for walking out and ceremonial I think something might be done.

Mrs. L.-C.The woman who makes my frocks is as clever as she can be, and always has her head full of ideas for those sort of things.

Mrs. C.Michel Angelo did not disdain to design the uniform of the Swiss Guard. Perhaps Gilbert, or Ford, or Brock might follow in the giant's footsteps.

Col. B.You ladies always design such sensible clothes for yourselves, do you not?

[He is frozen into silence again.

Mrs. B.And the education of young officers. From a cursory glance through my husband's books on law, topography and administration, Ishould say that there are no military subjects that the average woman could not master in a fortnight. Strategy, of course, comes to us by intuition. The companionship and influence of really good women on youths and young men cannot be over-rated, and the professors both at the Staff College and at the Military Academy should be of our sex.

Mrs. L.-C.I always love the boys; but I think some of the staff college men are awfully stuck up.

Mrs. B.Now as to the regiment. The mess, of course, should be in our province.

Mrs. L.-C.How ripping. The guest-nights would be lovely dinner parties, the ante-room we'd use for tea, and the band should always play from 5 to 6. We'd have afternoon dances every Thursday, and turn the men out once a week and have a dinner all to ourselves to talk scandal.

[The colonel groans.

Regimental Orders"Regimental Orders"!Volunteer Captain."Ah, Sergeant Jones—didn't I send you an order to be at headquarters on Monday, at nine o'clock, with a corporal and six men for duty?"Sergeant."Yes, sir. But I think if there was a little more 'request', and a little less 'order', it would be (a-hem)—better!"

Volunteer Captain."Ah, Sergeant Jones—didn't I send you an order to be at headquarters on Monday, at nine o'clock, with a corporal and six men for duty?"

Sergeant."Yes, sir. But I think if there was a little more 'request', and a little less 'order', it would be (a-hem)—better!"

BOBS"BOBS"An Indian idol—as worshipped by Mr. Thomas Atkins.(The property of the British nation.)

An Indian idol—as worshipped by Mr. Thomas Atkins.(The property of the British nation.)

"BOBS" AS A BOBBIE"BOBS" AS A BOBBIE["Coronation Claims.—There being no succession to certain offices, the appointment thereto rests with His Majesty, and the following are regarded as probable candidates:—Lord High Constable—The Earl Roberts," &c.—Vide Daily Mail, Nov. 19, 1901.]

["Coronation Claims.—There being no succession to certain offices, the appointment thereto rests with His Majesty, and the following are regarded as probable candidates:—Lord High Constable—The Earl Roberts," &c.—Vide Daily Mail, Nov. 19, 1901.]

SORROWS OF A SUBALTERNSORROWS OF A SUBALTERN"Curious way that boy has of salutin'. Don't believe it's correct!"

"Curious way that boy has of salutin'. Don't believe it's correct!"

The DogThe Dog!(A romance of real life.)The Gallant Major."I beg a thousand pardons for the apparent liberty I take as an entire stranger, but may I make so bold as to ask you, is not this one of that wonderful breed of black or Chinese pugs?"The Pretty Lady (most condescendingly)."Yes, you are perfectly right, and if I am not mistaken, you are Major McBride, of the Ninety-ninth Hussars."[From that moment they became fast friends, and within the next three months there appeared in the "Morning Post," 'A marriage has been arranged between Major McBride, of the Ninety-ninth Hussars, and Mrs. Bellairs,' &c., &c.

(A romance of real life.)

The Gallant Major."I beg a thousand pardons for the apparent liberty I take as an entire stranger, but may I make so bold as to ask you, is not this one of that wonderful breed of black or Chinese pugs?"

The Pretty Lady (most condescendingly)."Yes, you are perfectly right, and if I am not mistaken, you are Major McBride, of the Ninety-ninth Hussars."

[From that moment they became fast friends, and within the next three months there appeared in the "Morning Post," 'A marriage has been arranged between Major McBride, of the Ninety-ninth Hussars, and Mrs. Bellairs,' &c., &c.

One of our Conquerors"One of our Conquerors."Imperial Yeoman."Much obliged if you would pick up my sword for me."

Imperial Yeoman."Much obliged if you would pick up my sword for me."

TOMMY'S SUNDAY AFTERNOONTOMMY'S SUNDAY AFTERNOON AS IT WILL BE["It has been decreed in several line battalions that in future no soldier will be allowed to walk arm-in-arm in the street with a female."—Daily Paper.]

["It has been decreed in several line battalions that in future no soldier will be allowed to walk arm-in-arm in the street with a female."—Daily Paper.]

He's got eyes"Oh! I say! 'E 'as got eyes after all!"

"Oh! I say! 'E 'as got eyes after all!"

better see the vetDoctor."Don't feel well, eh? Appetite all right?"Tommie."Eat like a wolf, sir."Doctor."Sleep well?"Tommie."As sound as a dog, sir."Doctor."Oh, you'd better see the vet.!"

Doctor."Don't feel well, eh? Appetite all right?"

Tommie."Eat like a wolf, sir."

Doctor."Sleep well?"

Tommie."As sound as a dog, sir."

Doctor."Oh, you'd better see the vet.!"

JOKE THAT FAILEDTHE JOKE THAT FAILEDLubber."I say, Jack, do you know why they've painted the ships grey in time ofpeace?"Jack."I s'pose 'cos it's aneutraltint!"[But the other didn't laugh. He intended making that witticism himself.

Lubber."I say, Jack, do you know why they've painted the ships grey in time ofpeace?"

Jack."I s'pose 'cos it's aneutraltint!"

[But the other didn't laugh. He intended making that witticism himself.

Two cadets talkingSCENE ON BOARD H.M.S.——"I say, why am I like the Queen's chief cook? Do you give it up?""Yes.""Because I am in a high cool-and-airy (culinary) position."[Astonished cadet nearly falls from the yard.You young monkey, how dare you joke up in the air like that? However, we look over it this time.—Punch]

"I say, why am I like the Queen's chief cook? Do you give it up?"

"Yes."

"Because I am in a high cool-and-airy (culinary) position."

[Astonished cadet nearly falls from the yard.

You young monkey, how dare you joke up in the air like that? However, we look over it this time.—Punch]

putting troops into white trowsersAn economical mode of putting troops into white trowsers.

(Aldershot Edition)

1. Never recognise your enemy when you meet him on the road, in case you might be compelled to take him prisoner and so cause unpleasantness and unseemly disturbance.

2. Advanced guards should walk quietly and without ostentation into the enemy's main body, and be careful never to look behind bushes, trees, or buildings for an unobtrusive cyclist patrol. To do so might cause the enemy annoyance.

3. An advance guard, if surrounded, will surrender without noise or alarm. To make any would disturb the main body, who like to march in a compact and regular formation.

4. Never allow your common-sense to overcome your natural modesty so far as to induce you to report to a superior officer the presence of the enemy in force. You will only acquire a reputation for officiousness by doing so.

5. Always attack an enemy in front. It is unsportsmanlike and unprofessional to attack the flanks.

6. When retiring before an attack maintain as close a formation as the ground will admit of, and retire directly upon the main infantry support. You will thus expose yourselves to the fire of both your own friends and the enemy, and as blank cartridge hurts nobody it will add to the excitement of the operation.

7. It is more important to roll your cloaks and burnish your bits than to worry about unimportant details of minor tactics.

8. Since a solitary horseman never attracts the enemy's attention, be careful to take up a positionin compact formation; to do so by files might escape observation.

9. When being charged by the enemy, go fours about and gallop for all you are worth; it is just as agreeable to be prodded in the back as in the chest, and gives the enemy more satisfaction. To extend, or work to the flanks, might deprive your enemy of useful experience.

10. Never cast your eyes to the direction from which the enemy is not expected, as that is the usual direction of his real attack, and it is not polite to spoil the arrangement of your friend the enemy.

11. Lastly, remember that the best motto for Yeomanry Troopers is "Point de Zèle."

A Peace Song(1859)(Composed and volunteered by Mr. Punch)

Some talk of an invasionAs a thing whereat to sneeze,And say we have no occasionTo guard our shores and seas:Now,Punchis no alarmist,Nor is moved by idle fears,But he sees no harm that we all should armAs Rifle Volunteers!Let sudden foes assail us,'Tis well we be prepared;Our Fleet—who knows?—may fail us,Nor serve our shores to guard.For self-defence, then, purely,Good reason there appears,To have, on land, a force at handOf Rifle Volunteers!To show no wish for fighting,Our forces we'd increase;But 'tis our foes by frightingWe best may keep at peace,For who will dare molest usWhen, to buzz about their ears,All along our coast there swarms a hostOf Rifle Volunteers!Abroad ill winds are blowing,Abroad war's vermin swarm;Whatmayhap there's no knowing,We may not 'scape the storm.Athirst for blood, the EaglesMay draw our dove's nest near;But we'll scare away all birds of preyWith our Rifle Volunteers!No menace we're intending,Offence to none we mean,We arm but for defendingOur country and our Queen!To British hearts 'tis loyalty'Tis love her name endears:Up! then, and form! shield her from harmYe Rifle Volunteers!

Some talk of an invasion

As a thing whereat to sneeze,

And say we have no occasion

To guard our shores and seas:

Now,Punchis no alarmist,

Nor is moved by idle fears,

But he sees no harm that we all should arm

As Rifle Volunteers!

Let sudden foes assail us,'Tis well we be prepared;Our Fleet—who knows?—may fail us,Nor serve our shores to guard.For self-defence, then, purely,Good reason there appears,To have, on land, a force at handOf Rifle Volunteers!

Let sudden foes assail us,

'Tis well we be prepared;

Our Fleet—who knows?—may fail us,

Nor serve our shores to guard.

For self-defence, then, purely,

Good reason there appears,

To have, on land, a force at hand

Of Rifle Volunteers!

To show no wish for fighting,Our forces we'd increase;But 'tis our foes by frightingWe best may keep at peace,For who will dare molest usWhen, to buzz about their ears,All along our coast there swarms a hostOf Rifle Volunteers!

To show no wish for fighting,

Our forces we'd increase;

But 'tis our foes by frighting

We best may keep at peace,

For who will dare molest us

When, to buzz about their ears,

All along our coast there swarms a host

Of Rifle Volunteers!

Abroad ill winds are blowing,Abroad war's vermin swarm;Whatmayhap there's no knowing,We may not 'scape the storm.Athirst for blood, the EaglesMay draw our dove's nest near;But we'll scare away all birds of preyWith our Rifle Volunteers!

Abroad ill winds are blowing,

Abroad war's vermin swarm;

Whatmayhap there's no knowing,

We may not 'scape the storm.

Athirst for blood, the Eagles

May draw our dove's nest near;

But we'll scare away all birds of prey

With our Rifle Volunteers!

No menace we're intending,Offence to none we mean,We arm but for defendingOur country and our Queen!To British hearts 'tis loyalty'Tis love her name endears:Up! then, and form! shield her from harmYe Rifle Volunteers!

No menace we're intending,

Offence to none we mean,

We arm but for defending

Our country and our Queen!

To British hearts 'tis loyalty

'Tis love her name endears:

Up! then, and form! shield her from harm

Ye Rifle Volunteers!

Blankshire YeomanryThe above isnota war picture. It merely represents an incident in the too realistic scouting manœuvres of the Blankshire Yeomanry. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Timmins thought at least the country had been invaded.

The above isnota war picture. It merely represents an incident in the too realistic scouting manœuvres of the Blankshire Yeomanry. Poor Mr. and Mrs. Timmins thought at least the country had been invaded.

several who are not dead yetDe Vœux."My grandfather, you know, lived till he was ninety-eight."Trevor Carthew."Well, my grandmother died at the age of ninety-seven."Brown."Inmyfamily there are several who are not dead yet!"

De Vœux."My grandfather, you know, lived till he was ninety-eight."

Trevor Carthew."Well, my grandmother died at the age of ninety-seven."

Brown."Inmyfamily there are several who are not dead yet!"

Dignity in DistressDignity in Distress.Small Boys(to Volunteer Major in temporary command). "I say, guv'nor—hi! Just wipe the blood off that 'ere sword!"

Small Boys(to Volunteer Major in temporary command). "I say, guv'nor—hi! Just wipe the blood off that 'ere sword!"

Back a littleFORE AND——Sergeant."Back a little, number five!"

Sergeant."Back a little, number five!"

Up a little—— AFT!Sergeant."Up a little, number five!"

Sergeant."Up a little, number five!"

Our ReservesOur Reserves!Aide-de-Camp (at the review)."What are you doing here, sir? Where's your regiment?"Party on the Grass."Shure I don' know. Bu-r I don't rec'nise your 'thority, gov'nour!"Aide-de-Camp (furious)."What the deuce d'you mean, sir? You're a Volunteer, aren't you?"Party on the Grass."(Hic!)Norabirofit!—Was jus' now—bu-r I've reshigned 'n cons'quence—temp'ry indishposition!"

Aide-de-Camp (at the review)."What are you doing here, sir? Where's your regiment?"

Party on the Grass."Shure I don' know. Bu-r I don't rec'nise your 'thority, gov'nour!"

Aide-de-Camp (furious)."What the deuce d'you mean, sir? You're a Volunteer, aren't you?"

Party on the Grass."(Hic!)Norabirofit!—Was jus' now—bu-r I've reshigned 'n cons'quence—temp'ry indishposition!"

What's the charge"Summing Up."Captain."What's the charge, sergeant?"Sergeant."This time it's drunkenness, sir. But this man is the most troublesome fellow in the regiment, sir. He goes out when he likes, and comes in when he likes, and gets drunk when he likes—in fact, he might be a horficer!!"

Captain."What's the charge, sergeant?"

Sergeant."This time it's drunkenness, sir. But this man is the most troublesome fellow in the regiment, sir. He goes out when he likes, and comes in when he likes, and gets drunk when he likes—in fact, he might be a horficer!!"

Brown, Jones, and Robinson, discovered discussing the stats of the Navy in a first-class compartment.

Brown.My dear fellows, I can assure you we are in a terrible condition of unpreparedness. If France was to declare war to-morrow we should be nowhere—absolutely nowhere!

Jones.You mean, of course, with Russia.

Robinson.Or was it Italy?

Brown.It doesn't matter which. I fancy that France alone could tackle us. Why, a man was telling me the other day that if Gibraltar was seized—as it might be—we should not get a ship-load of wood for months—yes, for months!

Jones.But what has Gibraltar to do with it?

Robinson.Why, of course, it guards our approaches to the Suez Canal.

Brown.Oh, that's only a matter of detail. But what we want is a hundred millions to be spent at once. Cobden said so, and I agree with Cobden.

Jones.But upon what?

Robinson.Oh, in supporting the Sultan, and subsidising the Ameer.

Brown.I don't think that sort of thing is of much importance. But if we had a hundred millions (as Mr. Cobden suggested), we might increase our coaling stations, and build new ships, and double the navy, and do all sorts of things.

Jones.But I thought we were fairly well off for coaling stations, had lots of ships on the stocks, and, with the assistance of our merchant marine, an ample supply of good sailors.

Robinson.That's what all you fellows say! But wait till we have a war, then you will see the fallacy of all your arguments. No, we should buy the entire fleet of the world. There should be no other competitor. Britannia shouldreallyrule the waves.

Brown.Yes, yes. Of course; but after all, that is not the important matter. What we want is a hundred millions available to be spent on anything and everything. And it's no use having further discussion because that was Cobden's view of it, and so it is mine.

Jones.Where is it to come from—out of the rates?

Brown and Robinson(together). Certainly not.

Jones.Or the taxes?

Brown and Robinson(as before). Don't be absurd.

Jones.Well, it must come from somewhere! Can you tell me where?

Robinson.Why should we?

Brown.Yes, why should we? Even Cobden didn't go so far as that, and——But, here we are at the station.

[Invasion of porters, and end of the conversation.

Extract from LetterEaster Manœuvres.Extract from Private Letter.—April 1."I'm afraid Milly and I have put our respective feet in it this time. We thought we would test our capacities at hospital work, and attach ourselves to pa's regiment—of course, without telling pa—and were getting along quite nicely with a soldier who wasn't very well, when we met pa and the General and his regiment. They took away the patient, and judging from pa's looks, there's a warm time coming."

Extract from Private Letter.—April 1.

"I'm afraid Milly and I have put our respective feet in it this time. We thought we would test our capacities at hospital work, and attach ourselves to pa's regiment—of course, without telling pa—and were getting along quite nicely with a soldier who wasn't very well, when we met pa and the General and his regiment. They took away the patient, and judging from pa's looks, there's a warm time coming."

HELMET FOR ARMY MOTORISTSSUGGESTED HELMET FOR ARMY MOTORISTSThe new helmet as ordinarily worn. The same, as worn on motor duty.Directions:—Simply unhook the lower portion of the helmet; thereby extending the collapsible weather-and dust-proof mask. Admirable also as a disguise.

The new helmet as ordinarily worn. The same, as worn on motor duty.

Directions:—Simply unhook the lower portion of the helmet; thereby extending the collapsible weather-and dust-proof mask. Admirable also as a disguise.

Flag WaggingFlag WaggingSergeant of Signallers."What ai's Murphy to-day? He don't seem able to take in a thing!"Private Mulvaney."Shall I signal to 'im, 'Will ye 'ave a drink?'?"

Sergeant of Signallers."What ai's Murphy to-day? He don't seem able to take in a thing!"

Private Mulvaney."Shall I signal to 'im, 'Will ye 'ave a drink?'?"

Straits of MacassarTU QUOQUE.Army Candidate."And I only muffed one thing in the geography paper. Couldn't for the life of me think where the Straits of Macassar were!"Fond Father."Oh, I say, you ought to have known that. Fancy—the Straits of Macassar!"Army Candidate."Well, I didn't, anyhow. By the way, where are they, dad?"Fond Father."Oh—where are they? Oh—er—they're—well, they're—— but don't you think we'd better go to lunch?"

Army Candidate."And I only muffed one thing in the geography paper. Couldn't for the life of me think where the Straits of Macassar were!"

Fond Father."Oh, I say, you ought to have known that. Fancy—the Straits of Macassar!"

Army Candidate."Well, I didn't, anyhow. By the way, where are they, dad?"

Fond Father."Oh—where are they? Oh—er—they're—well, they're—— but don't you think we'd better go to lunch?"

good-night, AdmiralA HORSE-MARINEClub Wag."Well, good-night, Admiral."Warrior."There's a stupid joke. Admiral! Can't you see my spurs?"Wag."Oh, I thought they were your twin screws."

Club Wag."Well, good-night, Admiral."

Warrior."There's a stupid joke. Admiral! Can't you see my spurs?"

Wag."Oh, I thought they were your twin screws."

Who goes thereSentry(on the simultaneous approach of two persons). "Who goes there?—two ways at once!"

Sentry(on the simultaneous approach of two persons). "Who goes there?—two ways at once!"

IIArmy Reform

Scene.—The canteen of the Rutlandshire Regiment, at Downboro', an airy, plastered hall with high windows. A bar at one end is backed by a rampart of beer barrels. A double line of barrack tables and benches runs down the room. The hour is 5 p.m. At one of the tables sits Mr. W. Wilson, late Private in the regiment, in all his glory of a new check suit with an aggressive pattern, a crimson tie, a horseshoe pin, an aluminium watch-chain, a grey "bowler" and a buttonhole of violets. Privates W. and G. Smith, P. Brady, E. Dudd and other men of H. company are at the table, or standing near it.

Mr. Wilson (passing round a great tin measure containing beer, after taking a preliminary pull himself).Of course I do 'ear more, being in the smoke, than you 'ear down in this provincial 'ole; and there'sgenerals and statesmen and such-like comes and stays at our place, and when they gets tied up in a knot over any military question, as often as not they says, "Let's ask Wilson, the under-gardener. 'E's a hex-military man; 'e's a 'ighly intellergent feller"; and I generally gets them out of their difficulty.

Pte. W. Smith.D'ye know anything about this army reform?

Mr. Wilson (with lofty scorn).Do I know anything about it?

Pte. G. Smith.D'ye think they're going to make a good job of it?

Mr. Wilson.Naaw. And why? Becos they're goin' the wrong wai to work. They're arskin the opinion of perfeshernal hexperts and other sich ignoramuses, and ain't goin' to the fountain 'ead. Oo's the backbone of the English service?

Pte. P. Brady.The Oirish private.

Mr. Wilson.Right you are, my 'Ibernian—always subsitooting British for Hirish—and the British compiny is the finest horganisation in the world. Give the private a free 'and and a rise of pay, and make the compiny the model of thearmy, and then yer can put all the hexperts and all the Ryle Commissions and their reports to bed.

Pte. Dudd.As how?

Mr. Wilson.As 'ow, yer old thick head? It's as plain as a pike-staff. Taike this question of responsibility. When some one comes a bloomer, and the paipers all rise 'ell, the civilian toff, 'oos a sort of a commander-in-chief in a Sunday coat and a chimney-pot 'at, 'e says, "It ain't me. Arsk the real commander-in-chief," and the feeld-marshal 'e says, "Arsk the hadjutant-general," and the hadjutant-general, 'e says, "Arsk the hordnance bloke." Now in the compiny there ain't none of that. If the colonel goin' round at kit inspection finds the beds badly made up, or jags and sight-protectors deficient, or 'oles in the men's socks, 'e goes fierce for the captin' and threatens to stop 'is leave; and the captin' don't say, "Oh, it's the hadjutant, or the quarter-master, or the chaplain what's to blame," no, 'e gives the subalterns and the coloured-sergeant beans, and they slip it in to the sergeants and corprils in charge of squads, and the beds is set up straight, and the men put downfor jags and sight-protectors, and the 'oles in the socks is mended.

Pte. W. Smith.That's so, old pal. What else would you recermend?

Mr. Wilson(reaching out for the measure).Thank yer. This 'ere army-reforming's a dry job. Now as to the metherd of attack. When the regiment goes out field-firing the henemy's a line of hearthenware pots, touched up on the sly by the markers with a dash of white; the captains count the telergraph posts up the range and give the exact distance; and the men goes 'opping along in line like crows on a ploughed field, the sergeantes a-naggin' 'em about the 'Ithe position and the coprils calling them back to pick up empty cartridge cases. Is that the wai, that you, George Smith, and you, Bill, and you, Pat, used ter creep up to the rabbit warrens when we used ter go out in the herly morning to assist the farmers to keep down the ground gime—poaching the colonel called it? No, we hexecuted wide turning movements and never showed no more than the tip of a nose. Let drill of attack alone, I say, and develop the sporting hinstinct of the private.

Omnes.'Ear, 'ear.

Mr. Wilson.And this matter of mobility. Why, if you or me or any of us was on furlough at 'Ampstead or Margit, we was never off a 'orse's or a moke's back as long as the dibs lasted. Give us the brass, and we'll find the mobility.

Pte. W. Smith.Why don't yer write to the Prime Minister, and give him your ideas?

Mr. Wilson.I shall. A few hintelligent ex-privates in the Cabinet, a rise of pay for privates and two days' rabitting, and a trip to Margit every week would sive the British Army.

["In spite of the demand for recruits, the number of tramps remain, undiminished."—Daily Paper.]

Why does not patriotic fireMy all too torpid heart inspireWith irresistible desireTo seek the tented camp, sir,Where Glory, with her bronze V.C.,Waits for the brave, perhaps for me?Because I much prefer to beA lazy, idle tramp, sir.I toil not, neither do I spin.For me, the laggard days beginHours after all my kith and kinAre weary with their labours;The heat and burden of the dayThey bear, poor fools, as best they may,While I serenely smoke my clayAnd pity my poor neighbours.When Afric burns the trooper brown,By leafy lanes I loiter downThrough Haslemere to Dorking town,Each Surrey nook exploring;Or 'neath a Berkshire hay-rick IAt listless length do love to lie,And watch the river stealing byBetween the hills of Goring.Why should I change these dear delightsFor toilsome days and sleepless nights,And red Bellona's bloody ritesThat bear the devil's stamp, sir?Let others hear the people cry"A hero he!"—I care not, I,So I may only live and die,A lazy, idle tramp, sir.

Why does not patriotic fire

My all too torpid heart inspire

With irresistible desire

To seek the tented camp, sir,

Where Glory, with her bronze V.C.,

Waits for the brave, perhaps for me?

Because I much prefer to be

A lazy, idle tramp, sir.

I toil not, neither do I spin.For me, the laggard days beginHours after all my kith and kinAre weary with their labours;The heat and burden of the dayThey bear, poor fools, as best they may,While I serenely smoke my clayAnd pity my poor neighbours.

I toil not, neither do I spin.

For me, the laggard days begin

Hours after all my kith and kin

Are weary with their labours;

The heat and burden of the day

They bear, poor fools, as best they may,

While I serenely smoke my clay

And pity my poor neighbours.

When Afric burns the trooper brown,By leafy lanes I loiter downThrough Haslemere to Dorking town,Each Surrey nook exploring;Or 'neath a Berkshire hay-rick IAt listless length do love to lie,And watch the river stealing byBetween the hills of Goring.

When Afric burns the trooper brown,

By leafy lanes I loiter down

Through Haslemere to Dorking town,

Each Surrey nook exploring;

Or 'neath a Berkshire hay-rick I

At listless length do love to lie,

And watch the river stealing by

Between the hills of Goring.

Why should I change these dear delightsFor toilsome days and sleepless nights,And red Bellona's bloody ritesThat bear the devil's stamp, sir?Let others hear the people cry"A hero he!"—I care not, I,So I may only live and die,A lazy, idle tramp, sir.

Why should I change these dear delights

For toilsome days and sleepless nights,

And red Bellona's bloody rites

That bear the devil's stamp, sir?

Let others hear the people cry

"A hero he!"—I care not, I,

So I may only live and die,

A lazy, idle tramp, sir.

At a Country HouseAt a Country House."Well, my dear Admiral, and how did you sleep?""Not at all, General. Confounded butterfly flew in at the window, and was flopping around all night—couldn't get a wink of sleep.""Ah, dashed dangerous things, butterflies!"

"Well, my dear Admiral, and how did you sleep?"

"Not at all, General. Confounded butterfly flew in at the window, and was flopping around all night—couldn't get a wink of sleep."

"Ah, dashed dangerous things, butterflies!"

PRIVATES, BUT NOT FULL"PRIVATES, BUT NOT FULL" (1875)First Driver (after a long day)."The 'orse 'rtillery's a-getting quite aristercratic. It don't dine till eight o'clock!!"Second Driver."Stroikes me to-morrow the 'orse 'rtillery'll be too aristercratic to dine at all!!"

First Driver (after a long day)."The 'orse 'rtillery's a-getting quite aristercratic. It don't dine till eight o'clock!!"

Second Driver."Stroikes me to-morrow the 'orse 'rtillery'll be too aristercratic to dine at all!!"

The EnemyThe Enemy.Horrid Boy to newly-appointed Volunteer Major, (who finds the military seat very awkward). "Sit further back, General! You'll make his 'ead ache!"

Horrid Boy to newly-appointed Volunteer Major, (who finds the military seat very awkward). "Sit further back, General! You'll make his 'ead ache!"

this is not heroismAutumn Manœuvres.No, this is not heroism; this is simply discretion. Little Plumpleigh has just given "Charge!" and taken one look behind to see if his men are "backing him up, don't you know," and he is now making for safety!

No, this is not heroism; this is simply discretion. Little Plumpleigh has just given "Charge!" and taken one look behind to see if his men are "backing him up, don't you know," and he is now making for safety!

War-office GeniusWar-office Genius."Nowthisis another of my brilliant ideas, the shelter trench exercise. Of course, Iknowthe trench is the wrong way about, and that, when they have finished it, they have to fire into the wood they are defending, and then turn about and charge away from the wood, but,then!weget a capital bank and ditch made round our plantations, with practicallynoexpense!"Mr. Punch."And this is what you call instructing the Volunteers?"

"Nowthisis another of my brilliant ideas, the shelter trench exercise. Of course, Iknowthe trench is the wrong way about, and that, when they have finished it, they have to fire into the wood they are defending, and then turn about and charge away from the wood, but,then!weget a capital bank and ditch made round our plantations, with practicallynoexpense!"

Mr. Punch."And this is what you call instructing the Volunteers?"

wot 'appenedFirst Bluejacket."Well, matey, wot 'appened?"Second Bluejacket."Lieutenant, 'ereports as 'ow I were dirty, an' my 'ammick weren't clean, an' captin, 'eses, 'Wash 'is bloomin' neck, scrub 'is bloomin' face, an' cut 'is bloomin' 'air, every ten minnits!'"

First Bluejacket."Well, matey, wot 'appened?"

Second Bluejacket."Lieutenant, 'ereports as 'ow I were dirty, an' my 'ammick weren't clean, an' captin, 'eses, 'Wash 'is bloomin' neck, scrub 'is bloomin' face, an' cut 'is bloomin' 'air, every ten minnits!'"

never see a war-horse before?Volunteer Captain (acting Major first time)."Now then! What are you boys staring at? Did you never see a war-horse before?"Boys (who had followed expecting a "spill.")"Aye—we've whiles seen a waur horse, but never a waur rider!"

Volunteer Captain (acting Major first time)."Now then! What are you boys staring at? Did you never see a war-horse before?"

Boys (who had followed expecting a "spill.")"Aye—we've whiles seen a waur horse, but never a waur rider!"

Ad ValoremAd Valorem.(Energetic Sub has been pursuing runaway mule)."Well done, old chap! You deserve the D.S.O. at least. What is it? Ammunition?" "Ammunition! D.S.O.!! V.C., you mean!!!! Why, it's bottled beer!!!!"

(Energetic Sub has been pursuing runaway mule)."Well done, old chap! You deserve the D.S.O. at least. What is it? Ammunition?" "Ammunition! D.S.O.!! V.C., you mean!!!! Why, it's bottled beer!!!!"

Money "Tight."Money "Tight."British Subaltern."By-the-by, Smith, can you lend me that sovereign I gave you this morning for a Christmas-box?!"

British Subaltern."By-the-by, Smith, can you lend me that sovereign I gave you this morning for a Christmas-box?!"

Our ReservesOur Reserves.Captain of Rural Corps (calling over the roll)."George Hodge!"(No answer.)"George Hodge!—Where on earth's George Hodge?"Voice from the ranks."Please, sir, he's turned dissenter, and says fighting's wicked."

Captain of Rural Corps (calling over the roll)."George Hodge!"(No answer.)"George Hodge!—Where on earth's George Hodge?"

Voice from the ranks."Please, sir, he's turned dissenter, and says fighting's wicked."

Scene—Within measurable distance of Woking. Enter lounger and marksman R. and L.

Lounger (heartily).Why, Iamglad to see you! And how are things going on?

Marksman (cordially, but abruptly).Capitally! Good-bye!

Loung.But I say, what a hurry you are in! Can't you stop a minute for a chat?

Marks.Another time, but just now moments are precious.

Loung.But I say, you see I have found myself here—it doesn't take much longer than getting down to Wimbledon.

Marks.Of course it doesn't—whoever said it did? But there, old chap, Imustbe off!

Loung.You are in a hurry! Ah, we used to have pleasant days in the old place?

Marks.Did we? I daresay we did.

Loung.Why, of course! Grand old days! Don't you remember what fun it used to be decorating your tent; and then, when the ladiescame down—which they did nearly all the day long—what larks it was getting them tea and claret-cup?

Marks.Very likely. But we don't have many ladies now, and a good job, too—theyarea bore.

Loung.Well, youarea chap! Why, how can there be any fun without your sisters, and your cousins, and your maiden aunts?

Marks.We don't want fun. But there, good-bye!

Loung.But I say, I have come all this way to look you up.

Marks. (unbending).Very kind of you, my dear fellow, you have chosen rather an unfortunate time.

Loung.Why, at Wimbledon you had nothing to do!

Marks.Very likely. But then Bisley isn't Wimbledon.

Loung. (dryly).So it seems. Everyone said that when they moved the camp further away from home, they would ruin the meeting.

Marks.Then everyone was wrong. Why, we are going on swimmingly.

Loung.It must be beastly dull.

Marks.Not at all. Lovely country, good range, and, after it rains, two minutes later it is dry as bone.

Loung.Yes, but it stands to reason that itcan'tbe as popular as Wimbledon.

Marks.My dear fellow, figures are the best test of that. In all the history of the Association we never had more entries than this year.

Loung.That may be, but you don't have half the fun you had nearer town.

Marks. (laughing).Don't want to! Business, my dear fellow, not pleasure! And now, old man, I reallymustbe off. Ta! ta! See you later.

[Exit.

Loung. Well, whatever he may say, I prefer Wimbledon. And as there doesn't seem much formeto do down here, I shall return to town.

[Does so. Curtain.

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