“Mais votre ordonnance, m’sieur!” was the reply.

Tackled upon the subject, the “ordonnance” in question, Waddell’s servant—­a shock-headed youth from Dundee—­admitted having communicated the information; and added—­

“She’s a decent body, sirr, the lady o’ the hoose.  She lost her husband, she was tellin’ me, three years ago.  She has twa sons in the Airmy.  Her auld Auntie is up at the top o’ the hoose—­lyin’ badly, and no expectin’ tae rise.”

And yet some people study Esperanto!

We also make ourselves useful.  “K(1)” contains members of every craft.  If the pig-sty door is broken, a carpenter is forthcoming to mend it.  Somebody’s elbow goes through a pane of glass in the farm-kitchen:  straightway a glazier materialises from the nearest platoon, and puts in another.  The ancestral eight-day clock of the household develops internal complications; and is forthwith dismembered and reassembled, “with punctuality, civility, and despatch,” by a gentleman who until a few short months ago had done nothing else for fifteen years.

And it was in this connection that Corporal Mucklewame stumbled on to a rare and congenial job, and incidentally made the one joke of his life.

One afternoon a cow, the property of Madame la fermiere, developed symptoms of some serious disorder.  A period of dolorous bellowing was followed by an outburst of homicidal mania, during which “A” Company prudently barricaded itself into the barn, the sufferer having taken entire possession of the farmyard.  Next, and finally—­so rapidly did the malady run its course—­a state of coma intervened; and finally the cow, collapsing upon the doorstep of the Officers’ Mess, breathed her last before any one could be found to point out to her the liberty she was taking.

It was decided to hold a post-mortem—­firstly, to ascertain the cause of death; secondly, because it is easier to remove a dead cow after dissection than before.  Madame therefore announced her intention of sending for the butcher, and was upon the point of doing so when Corporal Mucklewame, in whose heart, at the spectacle of the stark and lifeless corpse, ancient and romantic memories were stirring—­it may be remembered that before answering to the call of “K(1)” Mucklewame had followed the calling of butcher’s assistant at Wishaw—­volunteered for the job.  His services were cordially accepted by thrifty Madame; and the Corporal, surrounded by a silent and admiring crowd, set to work.

The officers, leaving the Junior Subaltern in charge, went with one accord for a long country walk.

Half an hour later Mucklewame arrived at the seat of the deceased animal’s trouble—­the seat of most of the troubles of mankind—­its stomach.  After a brief investigation, he produced therefrom a small bag of nails, recently missed from the vicinity of a cook-house in course of construction in the corner of the yard.