to all that live.
All things made he--Shiva the Preserver.
Mahadeo! Mahadeo! He made all,--
Thorn for the camel, fodder for the kine,
And mother's heart for sleepy head, O little son of mine!

Her Majesty's Servants

You can work it out by Fractions or by simple Rule of Three,
But the way of Tweedle-dum is not the way of Tweedle-dee.
You can twist it, you can turn it, you can plait it till you drop,
But the way of Pilly Winky's not the way of Winkie Pop!

It had been raining heavily for one whole month--raining on a camp
of thirty thousand men and thousands of camels, elephants, horses,
bullocks, and mules all gathered together at a place called Rawal Pindi,
to be reviewed by the Viceroy of India. He was receiving a visit from
the Amir of Afghanistan--a wild king of a very wild country. The Amir
had brought with him for a bodyguard eight hundred men and horses who
had never seen a camp or a locomotive before in their lives--savage
men and savage horses from somewhere at the back of Central Asia. Every
night a mob of these horses would be sure to break their heel ropes and
stampede up and down the camp through the mud in the dark, or the camels
would break loose and run about and fall over the ropes of the tents,
and you can imagine how pleasant that was for men trying to go to sleep.
My tent lay far away from the camel lines, and I thought it was safe.
But one night a man popped his head in and shouted, "Get out, quick!
They're coming! My tent's gone!"

I knew who "they" were, so I put on my boots and waterproof and scuttled
out into the slush. Little Vixen, my fox terrier, went out through the
other side; and then there was a roaring and a grunting and bubbling,
and I saw the tent cave in, as the pole snapped, and begin to dance
about like a mad ghost. A camel had blundered into it, and wet and angry
as I was, I could not help laughing. Then I ran on, because I did not
know how many camels might have got loose, and before long I was out of
sight of the camp, plowing my way through the mud.

At last I fell over the tail-end of a gun, and by that knew I was
somewhere near the artillery lines where the cannon were stacked at
night. As I did not want to plowter about any more in the drizzle and
the dark, I put my waterproof over the muzzle of one gun, and made a
sort of wigwam with two or three rammers that I found, and lay along the
tail of another gun, won