[Illustration:  Kettle dropped the reins, and grasping Corporal around the neck, hung on desperately.]

“Good Gord A’mighty,” he groaned, to Sergeant Briggs, “I k’yarn’ ride that air hoss, Mr. Briggs, and I ain’t a goin’ to, neither.  Miss Betty, she tole me the way to surve my country wuz to look after the baby and her, so I’m jes’ goin’ to resign from the army and go home, ’cause it’s scrub day.”

“You go to the orficer of the day, and report yourself under arrest,” promptly replied Briggs.  “His office is in the headquarters building and he’ll straighten you out, I’m thinkin’.”

Kettle started off cheerfully enough, but instead of going to the headquarters building he made a bee line for the C. O.’s house, where he at once took off his coat and went down on his knees to scrub the pantry.  Two hours afterward, when the drill sergeant’s work was done in the riding hall and he discovered that Kettle had not reported himself to the officer of the day, the sergeant walked over to the C. O.’s house and sent in a respectful request to see the commanding officer.

“Come in, Sergeant,” called out Colonel Fortescue, sitting at his desk.

“Beg your pardon, sir,” said the Sergeant, once inside, “but I have come to you privately, to tell you about your man, known as Kettle.  He came into the riding hall this morning, and Sergeant Gully and Sergeant Halligan said he enlisted.  Of course, I know, sir, they couldn’t enlist him, but I’m afraid I helped ’em on with the joke.  Anyhow, I made him get on a horse, and it would have broke your heart, sir, to see such riding!  Then he got sassy, and I told him, just to get rid of him, to report himself under arrest, but nobody hasn’t seen him since.”

At that moment, the new recruit was seen passing the window, and wearing blue over-alls, in which he did scrubbing.  The Colonel tapped on the window and Kettle came in by the office entrance.

“What’s this, Solomon, about your being saucy to Sergeant Briggs?” asked Colonel Fortescue, sternly.

“Well, suh, I enlisted,” answered Kettle, promptly, “an’ I done resigned.  I tole that there Briggs man so, and lef’ the drill hall and come home, ’cause it was scrub day.”

“Three days in the guardhouse,” thundered the Colonel, in a voice terrible to Kettle.

Sergeant Briggs, touching his cap, walked out, Kettle following him.  At the door stood Mrs. McGillicuddy holding in her arms the After-Clap, in all his morning freshness, his little white fur cap and coat showing off his eyes and hair, so dark, like his mother’s.  The After-Clap gave a spring which he meant to land him in Kettle’s arms, but Kettle, bursting into tears, would not take him.

“I k’yarn’ take you now, honey,” cried Kettle, wiping his eyes, “I’m a goin’ to the guardhouse, my lamb, for three days and maybe I never see you no mo’.”

The baby seemed to think this might be true, and set up a series of loud shrieks.