have a strong calorific effect on the water.

So down the village on all fours, groaning like a Dutch brig in a
cross-sea, went our Albert Edward. He crawled into the dark barn and,
having no smaller change, contributed a two-franc bill to the forepaw
and told Sandy about his awful stiffness. His eloquence and the double
fee broke Sandy's heart. With great tears in his eyes he assured
Albert Edward that the utmost resources of his experience and
establishment should be mobilised on his (Albert Edward's) behalf, and
ushered him tenderly into that hidden chamber, constructed of sacking
screens, which was reserved for officers. Albert Edward peeled his
clothes gingerly from him, and Sandy returned to his cauldrons.

The peeling complete, Albert Edward sat in the draughts of the inner
chamber and waited for the bath. The outer chamber was filled with
smoke, and the flames were leaping six feet above the cauldrons; but
every time Albert Edward holloaed for his bath Sandy implored another
minute's grace.

Finally Albert Edward could stand the draughts no longer and ordered
Sandy, on pain of court-martial and death, to bring the water, hot or
not.

Whereupon Sandy reluctantly brought his buckets along, and, grumbling
that neither his experience nor establishment had had a fair chance,
emptied them into the tub. Albert Edward stepped in without further
remark and sat down.

The rest of the story I had from my groom and countryman, who, along
with an odd hundred other people, happened to be patronising the outer
chamber tubs at the time. He told me that suddenly they heard "a yowl
like a man that's afther bein' bit be a mad dog," and over the screen
of the inner chamber came our Albert Edward in his birthday dress.
"Took it in his sthride, Sor, an' coursed three laps round the
bath-house cursin' the way he'd wither the Divil," said my groom and
countryman; "then he ran out of the door into the snow an' lay down in
it." He likewise told me that Albert Edward's performance had caused a
profound sensation among the other bathers, and they inquired of
Sandy as to the cause thereof; but Sandy shook his Tam-o'-shanter and
couldn't tell them; hadn't the vaguest idea. The water he had given
Albert Edward was hardly scalding, he said; hardly scalding, with
barely one packet of mustard dissolved in it.

Our Albert Edward is still taking his meals off the mantelpiece.

I met my friend, the French battery commander, yesterday. He wa