Sept. 16.—­Private Montease and a cough entered into residence.

Sept. 17, 11.45 p.m.—­Maid came to bedroom-door with some cough lozenges which she asked me to take to the new billet.  Took them.  Private Montease thanked me, but said he didn’t mind coughing.  Said it was an heirloom; Montease cough, known in highest circles all over Scotland since time of Young Pretender.

Sept. 20.—­Private Montease installed in easy-chair in dining-room with touch of bronchitis, looking up trains to Bournemouth.

Sept. 21.—­Private Montease in bed all day.  Cook anxious “to do her bit” rubbed his chest with home-made embrocation.  Believe it is same stuff she rubs chests in hall with.  Smells the same anyway.

Sept. 24.—­Private Montease, complaining of slight rawness of chest, but otherwise well, returned to duty.

Oct. 5.—­Cough worse again.  Private Montease thinks that with care it may turn to bronchitis.  Borrowed an A.B.C.

Oct. 6.—­Private Montease relates uncanny experience.  Woke up with feeling of suffocation to find an enormous black-currant and glycerine jujube wedged in his gullet.  Never owned such a thing in his life.  Seems to be unaware that he always sleeps with his mouth open.

Nov. 14.—­Private Bowser, youngest and tallest of my billets, gazetted.

Nov. 15, 10.35 a.m.—­Private Bowser in tip-top spirits said good-bye to us all.

10.45.—­Told that Q.M.S.  Beddem desired to see me.  Capitulated.  New billet, Private Early, armed to the teeth, turned up in the evening.  Said that he was a Yorkshireman.  Said that Yorkshire was the finest county in England, and Yorkshiremen the finest men in the world.  Stood toying with his bayonet and waiting for contradiction.

Jan. 5, 1916.—­Standing in the garden just after lunch was witness to startling phenomenon.  Q.M.S.  Beddem came towards front-gate with a smile so expansive that gate after first trembling violently on its hinges swung open of its own accord.  Q.M.S., with smile (sad), said he was in trouble.  Very old member of the Inns of Court, Private Keen, had re-joined, and he wanted a good billet for him.  Would cheerfully give up his own bed, but it wasn’t long enough.  Not to be outdone in hospitality by my own gate accepted Private Keen.  Q.M.S. digging hole in my path with toe of right boot, and for first and only time manifesting signs of nervousness, murmured that two life-long friends of Private Keen’s had rejoined with him.  Known as the Three Inseparables.  Where they were to sleep, unless I——.  Fled to house, and locking myself in top-attic watched Q.M.S. from window.  He departed with bent head and swagger-cane reversed.

Jan 6.—­Private Keen arrived.  Turned out to be son of an old Chief of mine.  Resolved not to visit the sins of the father on the head of a child six feet two high and broad in proportion.

Feb. 6.—­Private Keen came home with a temperature.