ood and faithful jackals on either side would have to be
considered. And my heart grew sick within me, and I longed for a Man to
arise who, with a snap of his strong fingers, would snuff out the
Little Parish-Pump Folk who have misruled England this many a year with
their limited vision and sordid aspirations, and would take the great,
unshakable, triumphant command of a mighty Empire passionately yearning
to do his bidding... I could read no more newspapers. They disgusted
me. One faction seemed doggedly opposed to any proposition for the
amelioration of the present disastrous state of affairs. The salvation
of wrecked political theories loomed far more important in their
darkened minds than the salvation, by hook or crook, of the British
Empire. The other faction, more patriotic in theory, cried aloud
stinking fish, and by scurrilous over-statement defeated their own
ends. In the general ignoble screech the pronouncements of the one or
two dignified and thoughtful London newspapers passed unheeded....

I drew what comfort I could from the sight of the continually passing
troops; a platoon off to musketry training; a battalion, brown and
dusty, on a route march with full equipment, whistling "Tipperary";
sections of an Army Service train cursing good-humouredly at their
mules; a battery of artillery thundering along at a clean, rhythmical
trot which, considering what they were like in their slovenly jogging
and bumping three months ago, afforded me prodigious pleasure. On the
passing of these last-mentioned I felt inclined to clap my hands and
generally proclaim my appreciation. Indeed, I did arrest a fresh-faced
subaltern bringing up the rear of the battery who, having acquaintance
with me, saluted, and I shouted:

"They're magnificent!"

He reared up his horse and flushed with pleasure.

"We've done our best, sir," said he. "We had news last week that we
should be sent out quite soon, and that has bucked them up enormously."

He saluted again and rode off, and my heart went with him. What a joy
it would be to clatter down a road once again with the guns!

And other people passed. Townsfolk who gave me a kindly "Morning,
Major!" and went on, and others who paused awhile and gave me the
gossip of the day. And presently young Randall Holmes went by on a
motor bicycle. He caught sight of me, disappeared, and then suddenly
reappeared, wheeling his machine. He rested it by the kerb of the
sidewalk and approached the