the jolly time I have spent in the regiment, to set to and do
nothing but grind, for the next three years."

"We all have to do a good many unpleasant things, Lisle; and as we
have decided that you shall enter the army, you must make up your
mind to do the necessary work, even though it be disagreeable."

"All right, father! I know what depends upon it, and I will set
to."

"I have no doubt you will, Lisle, for you have plenty of common
sense, though you are a little inclined to mischief--not that you
are altogether to blame for that, for the officers encourage you in
it."

This conversation took place between Captain Bullen, of the 32nd
Pioneers, and his son. The regiment was in cantonments near the
northern frontier of India. The captain had lost his wife some
years before and, as their two youngest children had also died, he
had not been able to bring himself to send the remaining boy home.
The climate was excellent, and the boy enjoyed as good health as if
he had been in England. Captain Bullen had taken a great deal of
pains with his son's education but, as he said, he had now taught
the boy all that he knew; and felt that he ought to go to England,
and be regularly coached for the army.

Next day the captain entered his quarters, hurriedly.

"I am off," he said. "Those rascally Afridis have come down and
looted several villages; and I am to go up, in command of a couple
of companies, to give them a lesson."

"They are not very strong, are they, father?"

"No, I don't suppose they can put a couple of hundred men in the
field. We shall take the two mountain guns with us, and batter
holes in their fortresses, and then attack and carry them easily.
There is no sign of movement among the other tribes, so we need not
expect any serious opposition."

A week later, the little detachment entered the valley in which the
Afridi villages lay. The work had been fatiguing, for the country
was very rough; and the mules that carried the guns met with such
difficulties that the infantry had to turn to, and improve the
paths--if paths they could be called, for they were often little
better than undefined tracks. As the expedition moved up the
valley, the tribesmen opened on them a distant fire; but scattered
after a few shells from the mountain guns were thrown among them.
The fortified houses, however, were stubbornly held; and indeed,
were only carried after the guns had broken in the doors, or made a
breach in the