missioned officer's face.

"Don't--don't do that," said Brumpton, sharply.

"Don't do what, Mr Brumpton?"

"Laugh at a man."

"You don't think I was laughing at you?" said Dick, gravely.

"No, no--of course not. You wouldn't, my lad. But, my word! how you
are growing, Smithson! It's the drilling. You have altered since you
came."

"Have I?"

"Wonderfully, my lad--wonderfully! Men showed up well this morning," he
continued, seating himself.

"Capitally," said Dick.

"Couldn't hear what the colonel said, could you?"

"Every word."

"But you couldn't see, could you?" said the sergeant, appealingly.

"Oh, yes; two great slits, with the stuffing coming out."

Brumpton groaned.

"I say, why don't you make the tailor take all the padding away?" cried
Dick.

"I did beg and pray of him to, but he wouldn't. He said it would spoil
my figure, and I should look fuller and fatter. Oh, dear! I never
thought, after working as I have in the regiment, that I should live to
be laughed at like this!"

"Oh, don't mind that. I couldn't help laughing, too, Mr Brumpton. It
did look rather comic."

"To you, my lad--to you; but it's death to me! I shall be turned out of
the regiment on a pension. Me going out on a pension at my time of
life! But it must come."

"Don't let it," said Dick. "You're a young man yet."

"Yes; six-and-thirty, Smithson--that's all."

"Well, will you let me speak plainly, Mr Brumpton?"

"Of course, I will, my dear boy; I always liked you from the day when
you came up to me and wanted the shilling. I said to myself then, `This
chap's a gentleman--'"

"Oh, nonsense--nonsense," cried Dick.

"Ah! you needn't tell me. I know. But I'm not going to pump you. If
you want to keep it dark why you've run away from home, you've a right
to. What were you going to say, Smithson?"

Dick was growing nervous and excited, and jumped at the change in the
conversation.

"I was going to say that, as it is such a pity for you to grow so stout,
why don't you eat less?"

"Eat! My dear boy, I almost starve myself."

"Drink less, then. If I were you, I wouldn't take so much beer."

"But I don't, Smithson; I don't--I give it up ever so long ago--only
ginger, and that can't make me fat. It don't make no difference whether
I eat and drink hearty or starve myself: it all goes to fat. I really
believe sometimes that the very wind agrees with me and runs to it."

"Then do as the colonel sai