eft.

"So as to give old Gee one on the nose, and then have it out with him.
I'd make him warm. It's this sort o' thing as makes me hate it all.
The orficers don't mind us having a bit of a lark to make the march go
light. They takes no notice so long as we're ready for 'tention and 'll
fight. It's on'y chaps like Tommy Gee as has got his stripes that comes
down upon you. Why, I was singing and doing that plantation song on'y
yesterday, and Mr Bracy and Cap'en Roberts come along, and they both
laughed. Bet sixpence the Colonel would have looked t'other way.--Oh, I
say, ain't I hungry! Is it much farther?"

"I dunno," said another; "but ain't the wind cold up here?"

"Band's done again," said Gedge. "That was a short un. I s'pose if I
was to cry `Hongcore' old Gee 'd be down upon me again."

Ten minutes later the men had something more substantial to think about
than music, for the shelf-like track came to an end in a great natural
amphitheatre, whose walls were dwarfed mountains streaked with rifts and
ravines which glistened white and sparkling as they scored the green
grassy slopes, while the floor of the great hollow was a beautiful mead
through which a fairly rapid torrent ran.

The halt was called upon a tolerably smooth level, arms were piled, and
with the celerity displayed in a regiment on the march, the camp
kitchens were formed, the smoke of fires rose, and videttes being thrown
out after the fashion observed in an enemy's country, the men were free
for a couple of hours' halt for rest and refreshment, to their great
delight.

Pending the efforts of the regimental and camp follower cooks, some of
the men began to roam about within bounds; and the group to which
Private Gedge was joined made for one of the little ravines which
glistened white in the sunshine, and the joker of the company soon made
his voice heard.

"Oh, I say," he cried. "Only look! Here yer are, then. Here's yer
hoky-poky. Here's yer real 'apenny ices laid on free gratis for
nothing. Here yer are, sir; which 'll yer 'ave, strorbry or rarsbry?
The real oridgenal 'stablishment, kep' by Billi Sneakino Pianni Organni.
Who says hoky-poky?"

"Why, 'tis real ice, Bill," said one of the men.

"Snow," said another.

"Gahn!" cried Private Gedge, scooping up a couple of handfuls. "It's
hailstones, that's what it is. You on'y get snow atop o' the high
mountains."

"But it is snow, my lad," said a voice from behind, and the par