Albert Edward made noises in the negative.  “A rat, by golly!” boomed the venerable warrior, “big as a calf, came out of his hole and stood staring at me.  Damn his impudence!  I cut off his retreat with the manual and he’s somewhere about here now.  Flank him, will you?”

As Albert Edward moved to a flank there came sounds of another violent scuffle under the table, followed by a glad whoop from the General, who emerged rumpled but triumphant.

“Up-ended the waste-paper basket on him,” he panted, dusting his knees with a handkerchief.  “And now, me lad, what now, eh?”

“Fetch a dog, Sir,” answered Albert Edward, mindful of his friend The O’Murphy.  The General sneered, “Dog be blowed!  What’s the matter with the old-fashioned cat?  I’ve got a plain tabby with me that has written standard works on ratting.”  He lifted up his voice and bawled to his orderly to bring one Pussums.  “Had the old tabby for years, me lad,” he continued; “brought it from home—­carry it round with me everywhere; and I don’t have any rat troubles.  Orderly!

“Fellers come out here with St. Bernard dogs, shot-guns, poison, bear-traps and fishing-nets and never get a wink of sleep for the rats, while one common cat like my old Pussums would——­Oh, where is that confounded feller?”

He strode to the door and flung it open, admitting, not an orderly but The O’Murphy, who nodded pleasantly to him and trotted across the room, tail twinkling, love-light shining in his eyes, and deposited at Albert Edward’s feet his offering, a large dead tabby cat.

Albert Edward remembers no more.  He had swooned.

PATLANDER.

* * * * *

[Illustration:  FORCE OF HABIT.

Farmer.  “IF YOU’VE FINISHED PLOUGHIN’ THIS ’ERE FIELD WHAT’RE YOU DOIN’ SCRATCHIN’ ABOUT WITH THAT STICK?”

C3 War-worker (formerly humorous artist).  “OH, JUST SIGNING MY NAME.”]

* * * * *

[Illustration:  Tommy (reporting himself to Sergeant after search for lost bayonet).  “AH’VE FOUND ME BAGGINET.” Sergeant.  “WHERE WAS IT?” Tommy.  “ON THE TOP O’ MA GOON.”]

* * * * *

NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL.

CHAPTER I.

“I wish you would speak to Cook yourself about it,” said my wife rather nervously.  “The whole thing depends upon her, and everyone says the chief difficulty is to get one’s servants into line.”

“It seems hardly my department,” said I.

“No,” my wife admitted, “but I believe it would impress her.  She is not in the least impressed by me.”