* * * *

IN THE WINGS.

(NOTE: _If this essay in the well-informed manner achieves any success,
the credit is largely due to the timely interruptions of the Censor._)

Few people, I think, realise the tremendous significance of waterproof
overalls in a war like the present. I was talking to one of our most
prominent Midland manufacturers at Sheringham the other day and he
remarked confidentially [passage deleted by the Censor] at fifteen per
cent. reduction to our soldiers for spot cash.

* * *

Which reminds me of a stifling Malta afternoon, when I first saw the
good ship _Sheringham_ steam slowly up through the haze of Sliema Creek.
It was in the early days of the Navy's grey-paint era. The change was a
drastic one, as all service-men admitted. And why grey? I make no secret
of the fact that I have always advocated ultramarine for the
Mediterranean station; but the Grey Water School, you know--well, there,
I must not be indiscreet.

* * *

Life on a cruiser may be the tally for some, but give me the nimble
t.b.d.! There you have none of "the great monotony of sea" which drove
W.M.T. to his five meals a day. Nothing but the charming _fraternite_ of
the ward-room, the delightful inconsequences of the chart-house kitten,
and the throb of the oil-fed turbine! Unless I am greatly mistaken
[passage deleted by the Censor--which shows that I wasn't].

* * *

I was dining the other evening at the Buckingham Palace with a friend
who is well known in Foreign Office circles. The conversation turned,
naturally enough, on the dangers in our midst from foreign waiters. The
English waiter who was attending us happened at the moment to dislodge
with his elbow a wine-list which, in falling, decanted a quantity of
Sauterne into the lap of my _vis-a-vis_, who remarked [passage deleted
by the Censor].

* * *

I learn from reliable sources that one wing of our "contemptible little
army" is resting upon ----. Dear old ----! How often have I wandered down
your sleepy little High Street to the _epicerie_ of our lively old
_Therese_! But that was in the old days, before the black arts of
Kaiserism transformed the peace of yesterday into the Armageddon of
to-day. Next week I shall deal more intimately with life behind the
scenes in German frontier towns; but you must wait with what patience
you can for these further confidences.

* * * * *

Illu