Good-bye.

        C. D. JONES,

        Lt.-Col., O.C., etc., etc.”

    Finally, let me tell you a disgraceful tale of my same friend,
    which does not refer to his present command, and is, I hope,
    untrue of him in any command.

The crowd for which he was then responsible was suddenly threatened with inspection by the General who is charged with the welfare of such people, and who very properly desired to satisfy himself that they were both well disciplined and well tended.  So that success might be assured my friend had a rehearsal parade.  All inspections and manoeuvres being completed, my friend stood the crowd at ease and thus addressed them:—­

“All ranks will take the utmost care to turn themselves out smartly for the inspection and to make the inspection a success.  As the General passes along the lines inspecting you, you will stand rigidly to attention, eyes front.  You will be asked if you have any complaints to make, and each of you will have an opportunity of making a complaint in the correct manner.

        “In making his complaint the man should advance two
        paces forward, salute smartly, stand to attention and
        make his complaint.

        “And, by Heavens, if anybody does...!”

    Yours ever,

    HENRY.

* * * * *

A TRACT FOR GROUSERS.

Ernest and I were seated by the river.  It was very pleasant there, and it seemed a small thing to us that we were both still disabled.

“Did you ever say to yourself, when you were out there, that if ever you got out of it alive you’d never grumble at anything again?’” said Ernest.

My reply was in the affirmative.

We were silent for a while, remorse weighing heavily upon us.

“The worst case,” said Ernest at length, “was when I got my commission and came home for my kit.”

I composed myself to listen, piously determined not to grumble however tedious I might find his recital.

“We’d been near a place called Ypres,” he began.

“I seem to have heard the name,” I murmured.

“I hadn’t been sleeping really well for a week—­we’d been in the trenches that time—­and before that I had lain somewhat uneasily upon a concrete floor.”

“Yes, concrete is hard, isn’t it?” I said.

“We came out at three in the morning, and arrived at our billets about seven.  I knew this commission was on the tapis—­French word meaning carpet—­so I hung round not daring to turn in.  At eleven o’clock I had orders to push off home to get my kit.  You’ll guess I didn’t want asking twice.  I made my way to the railhead at once in case of any hitch, and had to wait some time for a train.  It was a goods train when it came, but it did quite well and deposited me outside the port of embarkation about nine o’clock at night.  I walked on into the port and found the ship that was crossing next morning.  I went below in search of a cabin.  There was a French sailor there to whom I explained my need.”