Capt. Very well—­then we will dispense with inspection of arms.  Buttons bright, and straps in their proper places?

Serg. (doubtfully).  So they say, Sir.

Capt. Well, then, read the orders.

Serg. Beg pardon, Sir, but the men say they know their duty, and don’t want to listen to no orders.

Capt. Well, well, I am glad to hear that they are so patriotic.  Hope that the Commanding Officer will dispense (under the circumstances) with the formality.  Anything more?

Serg. Privates BROWN, JONES, and ROBINSON are told off for duty on guard, Sir.

Capt. March them off, then.

Serg. Please, Sir, they say they want to speak to you.

Capt. Very well—­bring them up. (Sergeant obeys.) Now, men, what is it?

Private Brown.  Please, Sir, I have got a tooth-ache.

Capt. Very well—­fall out, and go to the doctor.

Private B. Please, Sir, I don’t want to see no doctor.  I can cure myself.

Capt. Very well—­cure yourself. (Private salutes, and retires.) And now, JONES and ROBINSON, what do you want?

Private Jones.  Please, Sir, me and ROBINSON were told off for guard six months ago, and we think it’s too much to expect us to do sentry-go so soon.

Capt. Well, you know your orders.

Private J. Oh, that’ll be all right, Sir!  We’ll explain to the War Office if there’s any row about it!

    [The Privates salute, and retire.

Capt. Anything else, Sergeant?

Sergt. Well, no, Sir—­you see the men won’t do anything.

Capt. Under those circumstances, I suppose I have only to give the usual words of command.  Company, attention!  Right turn—­dismiss!

    [They dismiss.

SCENE II.—­BEFORE THE ENEMY.  PRESENT—­NO. 1 COMPANY AWAITING ORDERS TO ADVANCE.

Captain.—­Now, my men, all you have to do is to keep your heads, and obey orders.  Attention!  Fix Bayonets!

Subaltern.  Sorry to say, Sir, they have paraded without bayonets.

Capt. Well, that’s to be regretted; although they are small enough nowadays, in all conscience!  Fire a volley!  At a thousand yards!  Ready!

Sub. Very sorry.  Sir, but the men forgot to bring their ammunition.

Capt.—­Come, this is getting serious!  Here’s the Cavalry preparing to charge, and we are useless!  Must move ’em off!  Right turn!

Sergeant.  Please, Sir, the Company’s a bit rusty, and don’t know their right hands from their left.

Capt. (losing his temper).  Confound it!  They don’t, don’t they!  Well, hang it all, I suppose they will understand this? (To Company.) Here, you pampered useless idiots—­bolt!