hs ago; besides, I heerd Sergeant Irving a-saying
only a few days ago that the chap as was quiet was bound to get on.
`What's the good of larking about as some of these idjuts do?' he says.
`Them as drinks is certain to get into trouble, and come before the
colonel, and what good does it do 'em? They loses their chance of
promotion, and they ruins their health. Besides that, they goes down
the quickest when the troops is on active service.'"

"Yes, that is very true, I believe," Phil answered. "But to return to
the stripes. You must win them, Tony, and if only you stick to your
work I am sure you will succeed. Then in the course of time you'll be
made sergeant, and later perhaps become sergeant-major. What a fine
thing it would be! You would have a good pension to look forward to,
and one of these days could end your service while still a young man,
but with the comfortable feeling that you were provided for for life."

"Hum! that's flying away to the skies, mate," Tony chuckled, "but
there's plenty of time to see, and--look up! there goes the bugle."

Both lads fell in with their company, now dressed in all the pride of
bearskins and whitened belts and pouches, and having been duly
inspected, marched stiffly erect out through the barrack-gate, up Sheet
Street, and into the famous old castle.

Many a time did Phil stand motionless by his sentry-box, looking over
the terrace-wall at a scene not to be surpassed in any other quarter of
Her Majesty's wide dominions--the green fields of Berkshire, with old
Father Thames winding hither and thither amongst them, now flowing
placidly along between banks of shimmering corn and grass, and anon
swirling past with a splash and a gurgle which broke up the reflections
of boats and houses brightly mirrored on its surface. Then, sloping his
gun, he would march across in front of the terrace gardens and the
windows of the royal apartments, and, turning his eyes in the opposite
direction, admire the three miles of absolutely straight and undulating
road, lined on either side by its double row of grand old oaks and
beeches, and ending in a green knoll, surmounted by a pile of masonry,
on which is set a large equestrian statue familiarly known as "the
Copper Horse". Away on either side the wide stretches of the park would
attract his attention, while far beyond the town, appeared the faint
blue and reddish band which marks the position of Windsor Forest.

Many times, too, whil