After ten days I handed George a chit from the Pay People for “one hundred and seventy francs for travelling expenses, 30/10/1917 to 20/11/1917, for tour of duty to Italy.”  George said I had a dashed fine brain to have worked out the claim; I told him the Pay Man had a dashed kind heart to settle it.  I hadn’t been able to avoid mentioning Italy; but for the rest the Pay Man simply must have thought that George had driven all the way to the frontier and back in cabs and done precious little duty on the other side of it.  Wouldn’t you have thought so, Charles, if you had received a claim merely for eighty-five cabs, at two francs a time, and all in France, too?

Yours ever,

HENRY.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Profiteer.  “VELL, ‘ERE’TH ANOTHER PENNY FOR LOOKIN’ THO MITHERABLE!”]

* * * * *

From a church notice-board:—­

  Matins.—­Hymn 43: 

  ‘Great God, what do I see and hear?’
        Preacher, Rev. Dr. ——.

  Hymn 45: 
  ‘Hark! an awful voice is sounding.’

* * * * *

[Illustration:  THE DEDUCTIVE MIND.

Permanent Base Man (in charge of incinerator, to Sanitary Inspector.) “YOU CAN TAKE IT FROM ME, CORPORAL, SOME BLIGHTER’S BEEN PUTTING BOMBS IN THIS INSINUATOR.”]

* * * * *

TRENCH COATS.

I went into a shop to buy a trench-coat.  The shopman came forward with an air which said quite plainly, “You are a second lieutenant.  You have just obtained a commission from the ranks.  You think you do not want a complete outfit.  It is my business to show you that you are mistaken.  You want a complete outfit.  Your Sam Browne is second-hand.  You picked your boots up from a Salvage Dump.  You cap was used once in your bathroom at home as a sponge-bag.  Your trench-coat is disgusting.  The whole outfit would fail to deceive a man’s maiden aunt, so obvious an attempt is it to mislead the unsophisticated into supposing that you have arrived here straight from the trenches.  I know better.  You have just obtained a commission in the motor-transport section of the Wessex Home Defence Corps.  Gentlemen from the trenches always dress as if they’d come straight out of a shop like this ...  And we don’t take cheques.”

That was what his manner said.  What he actually said was noncommittal.  He said, “Yes, Sir?”

I took off my trench-coat and let the glory of three whole stars dazzle him.  He little knew that one of them was “acting,” and his face fell.