Rather a joke (or the reverse) if I had to patronize the water-cart!

   Did exceedingly well. Complimented on the way I handled the Battalion in awkward position. Very trying march back, but men stuck to it well. Will back a country Battalion against a town one any time for a stiff day's work, although they may not be so smart. Ordered extra ration of beer, or its equivalent, to be issued to each man. Capital camp fire at night, and some very good choruses. Great pity that just as we have got into our stride, so to speak, we have to break up. Nothing like camp for the men. Wish we could have more of it. Must bring up the question of extended camps in the House.

    Saturday.

   —Brought Battalion home. Never knew the men march better, and every man looks as hard as nails. The girls say I look years younger. Quite sorry to get back.

    Saturday.

   —I don't think I ever felt less inclined to get up in my life. It is simply dreadful to contemplate the fact that for the next week there won't be a moment's peace for me after 5

    A.M.

   And something horrible is sure to happen—either the Sergeant Major will go sick, or the Colonel's wine will be corked, or I shall be asked to explain things.

   The Station Master seems unduly flurried for one of his years—says we shall block the whole line if we don't get away soon. Had no idea the railway system of the country was so easily upset. What is the matter with the youth Thompson? Oh, he is in charge of the baggage for the time being. It seems to excite him very much. Fortunately, baggage has a nice little way of turning up in the long run, somehow. I wish they wouldn't ask me what sort of work we shall do in camp; they must think I'm a sort of military encyclopædia. Frightful scene detraining, Volunteers always remind me of flustered hens on these occasions.

    Sunday.

   —"Oh those dreadful bugles!" Usual church parade. The Colonel is certain to forget his purse, so I'll take a sovereign for him. His expression when he sees I've nothing less, will be touching. As a spectacle, effect somewhat marred by the presence of a cyclist in violent tweeds.

    Monday.

   —Really a 

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