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knock-out if I'd 'ad the choice. You see, Sir, when I lef' Aldershot at th' beginnin' of August I was what you might call engaged to a young lady wot was in the saloon bar at one o' the best 'ouses in the command, and she'd made me promise 'er that I'd grow a moustache. Well, after about a week it stood straight out from my lip, and I says to myself, 'She'll find this inconvenient,' I says. So I took th' advice of our Colours, an' 'e told me that it was a case o' givin' it rope. 'It'll be all right, Clarke,' 'e says, 'if you let it go. After shavin' the lip for a few years the 'air always comes a bit stubborn-like, but if you let Nachure take its course, it'll smooth down an' lie flat, an' there you are.' He said, did Colours, that I had tons o' seed, and as soon as the crop got a decent length it would soften up an' be a credit to th' comp'ny.

"Well, when we gets over th' water, the first time I had a chance of lookin' at myself in a glass I sees that th' ol' moustache is doin' great. An', Sir, in five weeks it was a-curlin' round into proper formation, as you might say, an' I could twis' th' ends up, an' there wasn' one of our orficers what had a better kiss-me-quick nor what I had. So I writes home to my girl, tellin' her th' news, an' promisin' t' have my photo took at the firs' opportunity. You may laugh, Sir, but when a girl 'as set her heart on anythink like a moustache she'll have it, no matter what happens!"

"Well, I goes on with th' trainin' of it, an' I ain't ashamed t' say that there wasn' a better moustache in our Brigade! An' then, jus' as I'd about decided that I was prepared t' face the beautyscope, an' git a picture took, them bloomin' 'Uns enfiladed our line o' trenches one mornin', an' knocks me head over heels. That was nothink, as you might say; but, when the bearer-party picks me up, one of our drummers says, 'Your moustache 'as disappeared, Clarkey, ol' sport!'

"I puts my hand up to my mouth, what feels a bit soro an' cold, an' blow me if half my top lip ain't gone! My teeth was there all right enough, but half the lip had gone. Oh yes, they've patched it up all right, but they had to take a bit o' stuff off my shoulder to do it, an' nothink won't ever grow on that. At leas' that's what the R.A.M.C. officer said. Now ain't that enough to break a man's 'eart? Ain't it, Sir?"

I said that it was hard lines, but he might have lost worse than a moustache.

"I've no doubt you mean well, Sir, but you ain't married, I can see. You ain't nobody's 'usband. You ain't even nobody's fioncy! An arm or a leg, now—well, that's on'y a regrettable incident, as you might say, but to lose your only moustache, after all the trouble o' bringin' it up in the way it should go, after greasin' it with vaseline an' wipin' your mouth after ev'ry mouthful o' corfee, an' takin' care cv'ry time you lights a fag—why, I'd twice as soon 'ave 'ad my 'ead off, an' chance it!"

Everywhere the same story—grumbling (or, in their own charming argot, "grousin'") about trifles like a lost pipe, and making child's play of injuries little less than fatal. If you doubt my word, load yourself up with cigarettes, bar-chocolate, and illustrated papers, and turn into the first military hospital you find, and you shall understand why Mr. Punch was right in calling them "The Incorrigibles," God bless 'em!

By the way, talking of Mr. Punch, I think I must have seen him that day at the hospital. For I noticed He had a venerable gentleman with a hump at his back handing a book to one of the Red Cross nurses. He had a brave smile, though his mouth twitched a little, and I overheard him say, "This is a little present, my dear young lady, for your gallant patients; and I hope they'll find some of my love for them in its pages." And when he had gone I looked to see the name of the book; and it was Mr. Punch's