The "Shikarris" are a
high-caste regiment, and you must be able to do things well--play a banjo,
or ride more than little, or sing, or act--to get on with them.

The Worm did nothing except fall off his pony, and knock chips out of gate
posts with his trap. Even that became monotonous after a time. He objected
to whist, cut the cloth at billiards, sang out of tune, kept very much to
himself, and wrote to his Mamma and sisters at Home. Four of these five
things were vices which the "Shikarris" objected to and set themselves to
eradicate. Everyone knows how subalterns are, by brother subalterns,
softened and not permitted to be ferocious. It is good and wholesome, and
does no one any harm, unless tempers are lost; and then there is trouble.
There was a man once--but that is another story.

The "Shikarris" _shikarred_ The Worm very much, and he bore everything
without winking. He was so good and so anxious to learn, and flushed so
pink, that his education was cut short, and he was left to his own devices
by everyone except the Senior Subaltern who continued to make life a
burden to The Worm. The Senior Subaltern meant no harm; but his chaff was
coarse, and he didn't quite understand where to stop. He had been waiting
too long for his Company; and that always sours a man. Also he was in
love, which made him worse.

One day, after he had borrowed The Worm's trap for a lady who never
existed, had used it himself all the afternoon, had sent a note to The
Worm, purporting to come from the lady, and was telling the Mess all about
it, The Worm rose in his place and said, in his quiet, ladylike
voice:--"That was a very pretty sell; but I'll lay you a month's pay to a
month's pay when you get your step, that I work a sell on you that you'll
remember for the rest of your days, and the Regiment after you when you're
dead or broke." The Worm wasn't angry in the least, and the rest of the
Mess shouted. Then the Senior Subaltern looked at The Worm from the boots
upward, and down again and said: "Done, Baby." The Worm took the rest of
the Mess to witness that the bet had been taken, and retired into a book
with a sweet smile.

Two months passed, and the Senior Subaltern still educated The Worm, who
began to move about a little more as the hot weather came on. I have said
that the Senior Subaltern was in love. The curious thing is that a girl
was in love with the Senior Subaltern. Though the Colonel said awful
things, and the Majors s