t care a cuss; and when I asked
him sarcastically if he had forgotten the Platoon Commander's
pamphlet-bible, "Am I offensive enough?" he said he thought he was,
and I agreed with him.

When the whole mess-room was simply a-flutter with torn-out leaves
from his A.B. 153, representing his abortive attempts to put down his
application succinctly and plausibly, we all began to take an interest
in his case. We crowded round and offered him most valuable hints.
Together we got through two very pleasant evenings and three or four
A.B.'s 153, and still the application remained in a tentative state.
We got on all right to start with, but it was after the "I have the
honour to submit for the approval and recommendation of the Commanding
Officer this my application for two months' business leave" that we
got stuck.

Of course _I_ know it was no use, anyway. I have seen these things go
forward before. They have no chance.

It was then that a stroke of genius (unfortunate, as it turned out,
but a stroke of genius nevertheless) occurred to me. "Why not say that
your manager is a complete fool and in his hands the business is going
to rack and ruin?" I said. He bit at it like a tiger, and only the law
of libel prevented him putting it into execution there and then; but
all the same we had a jolly fine argument (six of us) about it for
some three hours, and nobody got put out of the room for introducing
acrimony into the discussion.

Finally, he said that he was sure his brother wouldn't mind his saying
it about _him_, and the application went in as follows:--

_To Adjutant, First Crackshire Regt._

Sir,--I have the honour to submit for the approval and recommendation
of the Commanding Officer this my application for two months' business
leave in the following special circumstances:--

The necessity of my presence in the business (wholesale hardware) has
become more and more urgent of late. It is imperative that I should
get home at once owing to the total incapability of my partner to
carry out simple directions which are dictated by letters, and it
is no exaggeration to say that the business, which has been built
up almost entirely by my efforts, must inevitably collapse unless it
receives my personal attention at once.

My address would be, etc., etc., London.

I am, Sir,
Your obedient Servant, etc., etc.

The Adjutant looked serious when he read it. So did Cook, for he
thought the Adjutant had noted the London ad