said, "must have a lot of brains
after all." And we have come to the conclusion that we will not
criticise them any more, for they must know as well as we do, if not
still better, how to win the war.

VIII

THE "KNUT"

We were sitting round the fire in the club, discussing that individual
colloquially known as the "knut."

"The 'knut,'" said Green, "is now virtually extinct, he is killed by
war. As soon as he gets anywhere near a trench, he drops his cloak of
affectation, and becomes a reasonable human being--always excepting, of
course, certain young subalterns on the staff."

Rawlinson leant forward in his chair. "I'm not sure," he said, "that I
agree with you. It all depends upon how you define a 'knut.'"

"A 'knut' is a fellow with a drawl and an eyeglass," said someone.

"That just fits my man. I know of an exception to your rule. I know of a
'knut' who did not disappear at the front."

"Tell us about him," suggested Jepson.

Rawlinson hesitated, and glanced round at each of us in turn. "It's not
much of a story," he said at length, "but it stirred me up a bit at the
time--I don't mind telling it you if you think it sufficiently
interesting."

We filled up our glasses, and lay back in our chairs to listen to the
following tale:

* * * * *

"When I was at Trinity I kept rooms just above a fellow called Jimmy
Wynter. He wasn't a pal of mine at all, as he had far too much money to
chuck about--one of these rich young wastrels, he was. He could drop
more than my annual allowance on one horse, and not seem to notice it at
all. In the end he got sent down for some rotten affair, and I was
rather glad to see the last of him, as the row from his rooms was
appalling. He always had an eyeglass and wonderfully cut clothes, and
his hair was brushed back till it was as shiny as a billiard ball. I put
him down, as did everyone else, as an out-and-out rotter, and held him
up as an example of our decadent aristocracy.

"When I went out to the front, our Regular battalion was full up, and I
was sent to a Welsh regiment instead. The first man I met there was none
other than this fellow Wynter, still with his eyeglass and his drawl. In
time, one got quite accustomed to him, and he was always fairly
amusing--which, of course, is a great thing out there--so that in the
end I began to like him in a sort of way.

"All this seems rot, but it helps to give you an idea of my man, and