*

(on probation, of course).  On my left sleeve I wore another star.  So: 

*

(also on probation).

They were good stars, none better in the service; and as we didn’t like the sound of “on probation” Celia put a few stitches in them to make them more permanent.  This proved effective.  Six months later I had a very pleasant note from the King telling me that the days of probation were now over, and making it clear that he and I were friends.

I was now a real Second Lieutenant.  On my right sleeve I had a single star.  Thus: 

* (not on probation).

On my left sleeve I also had a single star.  In this manner: 

*

This star also was now a fixed one.

From that time forward my thoughts dwelt naturally on promotion.  There were exalted persons in the regiment called Lieutenants.  They had two stars on each sleeve.  So: 

**

I decided to become a Lieutenant.

Promotion in our regiment was difficult.  After giving the matter every consideration I came to the conclusion that the only way to win my second star was to save the Colonel’s life.  I used to follow him about affectionately in the hope that he would fall into the sea.  He was a big strong man and a powerful swimmer, but once in the water it would not be difficult to cling round his neck and give an impression that I was rescuing him.  However, he refused to fall in.  I fancy that he wore somebody’s Military Soles which prevent slipping.

Years rolled on.  I used to look at my stars sometimes, one on each sleeve; they seemed very lonely.  At times they came close together; but at other times as, for instance, when I was semaphoring, they were very far apart.  To prevent these occasional separations Celia took them off my sleeves and put them on my shoulders.  One on each shoulder.  So: 

*

And so: 

*

There they stayed.

And more years rolled on.

One day Celia came to me in great excitement.

“Have you seen this in the paper about promotion?” she said eagerly.

“No; what is it?” I asked.  “Are they making more generals?”

“I don’t know about generals; it’s Second Lieutenants being Lieutenants.”

“You’re joking on a very grave subject,” I said seriously.  “You can’t expect to win the War if you go on like that.”

“Well, you read it,” she said, handing me the paper.

I took the paper with a trembling hand, and read.  She was right!  If the paper was to be believed, all Second Lieutenants were to become Lieutenants after eighteen years’ service.  At last my chance had come.

“My dear, this is wonderful,” I said.  “In another fifteen years we shall be there.  You might buy two more stars this afternoon and practise sewing them on, in order to be ready.  You mustn’t be taken by surprise when the actual moment comes.”