se salutes
which could be felt, but, as it happened, the General didn't feel it.
The problem at once arose, what was I to do, with the Major's stony eye
full upon me? The waggle, obviously, but in a modified degree, since it
doesn't do to be fidgetting with your hands when you're being talked to
by your elders and betters. I went through the motions, therefore,
meaning them to mean that, though I was chatting with a General, yet I
wasn't above saluting a Major. He mistook the movement, however, and
thought that I thought that, because I was chatting with a General,
therefore he'd saluted me! My goodness, we nearly lost the War that
time!

But don't you believe all this talk about military discipline. Take the
case of my own Colonel, for instance, a man who, before he took to staff
work, had probably dug enough trenches, put out enough barbed wire and,
generally, made enough mess of respectable agricultural land to earn for
himself a special vote of censure from the United Association of French
and Belgian Farmers. Now, there's a soldier, if ever there was one; but
are his orders obeyed when they don't fit in with the convenience of his
subordinates?

You shall judge for yourself. The other day he made up his mind, not
casually or by the way, but in writing, duly signed, sealed and
circulated, that "The moon will rise to-morrow at 4.43 A.M." Did the
moon comply? No, Sir, it did not; I'm told it was absent from parade
altogether. Did my Colonel put it under arrest? Did he even call for its
reasons in writing? Again, no. On the contrary, he weakly gave in,
saying that he'd got the time out of an almanack supplied by his
Insurance Company, and that "the man from the Insurance" was to blame
for sticking the pages together and getting him into an inappropriate
month. What I say is an order's an order, and it is nothing to do with
the moon where the Colonel gets his ideas from.

Call it fear or favour, I only know that when I'm informed that I am to
rise at 5 A.M. to-morrow morning, and, with no intention of disobeying,
I ask very quietly and very politely if they remember that this is March
and not July, at the very least I shall be told that I ought to be
ashamed of being a civilian instead of openly behaving as such. Yours
ever, HENRY.

* * * * *
ANOTHER INDISPENSABLE.

[Illustration: The war artist's model.]

* * * * *

Herodias?

"Any lady requi