John Brown

is a real one. And it was the bad fortune of our hitherto happy platoon to be saddled with one of the species. Our dear old platoon officer, Lieutenant Blessem, was found fit for duty, and departe

lase-Bones t

window. What a gorgeous Nut-all bri

tered Ginger, s

he couldn't help

ddy ass,' m

the sergeant-major shout

ed as if he were the conqueror of Bagdad, Ber

garden. Open that windah the

nths in the ranks h

he said, on arriving

t had never checked it. The C.O.'s view was that we were there t

sir,' answ

t up. Lo

to bundle H. G. Wells, Conrad, Haking, Br

ur boots?' he

,' said the Can

you speak t

aid of all military mandarins. We, who knew him, loved him; for Billy was the biggest-hearted man ever made. We shielded him from a good deal of trouble, and we were shocked when

your bed?

aid Billy, his

example! How can you e

een checked b

Tidy it up.-And, I

s,

in an hour's time,

good

nd him a well of hate and scorn. This man had in ten minutes smashed o

inger ironically,

e system, but he isn't a patch on t

. He's out for trouble; bu

ng,' grun

oy,' commented Billy, who wa

eefy. 'He's a ruddy inefficient swine,

was abo