a goodly tract is to be given to this popular hero.
The story of how he held the bridge-head will certainly afford a stirring
tale for the home-circle for a long time to come.

* * * * *

[Illustration: "LUMME! THIS IS A BIT OF ALL RIGHT, I DON'T THINK. ME
A-VOLUNTEERIN' FOR INFANTRY, GOIN' RIGHT THROUGH ME TRAININ', AN' NAH THEY
MAKES A BLOOMIN' LANCER OF ME!"]

* * * * *

'EAD-WORK.

Bob Winter is our local carrier. His old grey mare Molly--or a predecessor
very like her, driven by Bob's father before him--has jogged into town on
market days as long as anyone in the village can remember. The
weather-beaten, oft-patched tilt of Bob's cart must have heard in its day
generations of village gossip, and a mere inspection of the cargo on the
flap which lets down at the back will provide quite an amount of
interesting information, such as "whose new housemaid's tin trunk be
a-goin' to station already, lookee, and who be a-getten a new tyre to ees
bicycle--see."

Now, however, there is a likelihood that Bob may be called up; and the fate
of the carrying business hangs in the balance.

"Never mind, Bob," I said (I had overtaken him and old Molly sauntering up
the steep hill above the village); "if it comes to that, you know, the
women-folk will have to take turns at the carrying while you are away. I
believe I should make rather a good carrier."

Bob shook his head and looked evasive.

"No, Miss," he said, "'twuddn' do, 'twuddn' do at all."

"Come," I said, "you don't mean to say Molly would be too much for me?"

"No, Miss, 'tain't Molly, but--well, 'tain't no job for a lady, ain't the
carryin'; leastways, not to my way o' thinkin'."

"Oh, but I should get the people at the shops to help me with the heavy
things."

Bob cleared his throat loudly and looked more uncomfortable still. Then at
last he decided to take the plunge.

"'Tain't the liftin' that do be troublin' I, Miss," he said confidentially,
"'tis the 'ead-work. I don't believe there be a wumman livin' could do it.
There be a tur'ble lot of 'ead-work in the carryin' business. Why, I do
think--think--think mornen till night, till what wi' one thing an' what wi'
another thing I'm sure there's times when I don't know if I be on my 'ead
or my 'eels. Why, I've seen the time when I've a-comed in and I've a-set
down and I've a-said to Missis, 'No, Missis, I don't want no tea; I don't
want nothen on