eturned the young officer in American; "and why not?
Besides I know French, Russian, German, and all the languages spoken
on your little globe, to say nothing of the dialects used by those who
inhabit the rest of the planets. It's our system. Nowadays, a man in
the Service is expected to be up in everything. If he wasn't, how on
earth could he fight, or do anything else in a satisfactory fashion?
And now let us bustle along."

"But first," put in TIME, who did not relish being silent, "will you
kindly tell us what those masses of colour are?"

[Illustration]

"Certainly. They are troops. We put them in scarlet in peace, but they
appear in their shirtsleeves the moment war's declared. Novel idea,
isn't it?"

And then the pleasant-spoken young officer led the way to a lift, and,
touching a button, the three descended from the top of the mountain to
the valley beneath.

"On the counterweight system," explained the A.D.C. "We cribbed
the idea from Folkestone, and Lynmouth. And here, _Mr. Punch_, is
something that will interest you. We absolutely howled at that sketch
of yours showing the mechanical policeman. Don't you know--old woman
puts a penny in the slot and stops the traffic? And here's the idea
developed. See that mechanical sentry. I put a penny in the slot, and
he pays me the usual compliment. He shoulders arms, as I am only a
captain--worse luck! If I were of field rank he would come smartly
to the present."

And sure enough the mechanical soldier saluted.

"It's not half a bad idea," continued the agreeable A.D.C. "You see
sentry-go is awfully unpopular, and a figure of iron in times of peace
is every bit as good as a man of brass. The pence go to the Canteen
Fund along with the fines for drunkenness. It seems reasonable enough
that a fellow, if he wants to be saluted, should pay for the
swagger. If a fellow likes to turn out the guard, he can do it with
sixpence--but then of course he hasn't the right unless his rank
permits it--see?"

By this time the mechanical soldier had returned to the slope, and was
parading his beat in a somewhat jerky manner.

"And now what would you fellows like to do?" asked the A.D.C. "Pardon
the familiarity, but nowadays age doesn't count, does it? Everybody's
young. One of the best _Juliets_ I ever knew had turned sixty, and
played to a _Romeo_ who was twenty years her senior. Nothing like that
down below, I suppose?"

"Nothing," returned _Mr. Punch_.

"So I have alw