“ When a talk about the German invasion of England was going on, an Irish militiaman, stationed in Carrickfergus, was heard to remark that immediately the enemy landed in England he would certainly bolt, taking a good stock of provisions, and hide in a convenient cave he knew of.
The colonel, hearing of his unpatriotic resolve, called him out next day on parade, and lectured him severely on his cowardice.
“You’re a disgrace to the regiment and the Service at large,” he cried. “Fancy you threatening to run away; but I’d be after you in quick time, my man, never fear.” ”

“ Some men, dressed in civilian clothes, gathered together in the smoking-room of the hotel, discussing the joys and sorrows of life at the Front.
“Well, I’ve been with the Army and had a very interesting time,” said one.
“Ever got really alone with the enemy?” asked another.
“Rather! I once took two of their officers.”
“Unaided?”
“Of course! And the very next day I took eight men!”
“All wounded, I expect,” sneered a listener. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”
“Just a slight scratch, that’s all. And two days after I took a transport wagon, and followed up that by taking a big gun.” ”

“ Every scout has his own methods of working, but the first thing each does is generally to attempt to trap the hidden men into betraying their position.
The other day a British scout, who, previous to the outbreak of war, had been a well-known man about town, was told to examine a little wood on the right bank of the ——. He went forward and tried all the usual artifices, including the somewhat threadbare one of pretending to gallop away in alarm, but in vain. Not a German showed himself. Yet the scout was not satisfied, and suddenly a bright thought struck him. ”

“ A BITING RETORT
“Jones, the captain wants you, matey. Whatcher bin doin’?”
“It’s that dog!” ejaculated Private Jones, as he made ready to appear before his superior officer.
“Jones,” said that worthy, frowningly, “this gentleman complain that you have killed his dog.”
“A dastardly trick,” warmly interrupted the owner of the dog, “to kill a defenseless animal that would harm no one!”
“Not much defenseless about it,” chimed in the private, heatedly. “He bit pretty freely into my leg while I was on sentry duty, so I ran my bayonet into him.” ”

“ The value of army remounts was exemplified the other day by the cavalry sergeant who lost patience with an awkward recruit.
“Never approach the horses from behind without speaking,” he exclaimed. “If you do they’ll kick you in that thick head of yours, and the end of it will be that we shall have nothing but lame horses in the squadron.” ”

“ One afternoon a correspondent rode up to the lines, and, seeing a soldier sitting on a bundle of hay, smoking [52] a dilapidated-looking old briar pipe, asked where the General was.
“The old man is somewhere about,” coolly replied the soldier.
“Well, just hold my horse while I go and search for him.”
“Certainly, sir,” and the smoker rose and obediently took the bridle.
“Can you tell me where the General is?” inquired the correspondent of a staff-officer farther down the line.
“General French? Oh, he’s somewhere about. Why, there he is, holding that horse’s head!” ”

“ Like knights of old, the Canadian troops for the front are equipped with armor. It is in the form of a spade, to be carried on the back when not in use, to be used for digging trenches when not wanted for protective purposes, and to act as a shield and rifle-rest when the fighting begins.
There is an oval hole in the middle of the blade of the spade. Through this hole the soldier pokes his rifle, just as the archers in the old days used narrow niches in the walls of a castle.
Although the spade weighs only four pounds, and can be carried on marches with ease, it is practically bullet-proof. ”

“ One of the neatest stories of how a military officer can do the right thing without sacrifice of dignity is related of the man who afterwards became Commander-in-Chief of the British Army. He was sitting in a high-toned tap-room of Dublin, where privates were not permitted the privilege of the bar. Two finely-built men of a dragoon regiment, wearing long-service stripes, entered and called for drinks, which were curtly refused them. They turned without a word and were retiring in good order.
“Halt!” came sharply from the officer in civilian’s clothes. ”

“ The people of Luxemburg are not wanting in a sense of humor. One day an officer of the Prussian Guard entered a barber shop and had a shave. Whereupon he tendered to the barber a twopenny piece.
“Excuse me, sir,” said the barber, “but it’s threepence now.”
“Why threepence?” asked the Kaiser’s Guardsman. “In August last you only charged me twopence.”
“That’s true enough,” was the barber’s reply; “but since the Battle of the Marne your face has grown much longer.” ”

“ At a certain British club the other day the possibility of providing soldiers with some form of bullet-proof protection was being discussed.
“Those bullet-proof shields are an insult to Tommy’s’ dignity, gentlemen,” inveighed a retired military man, whose oft-boasted achievements no living person had ever seen recorded. ”

“ If you favor war, dig a trench in your back yard, fill it half full of water, crawl into it, and stay there for a day or two without anything to eat, get a lunatic to shoot at you with a brace of revolvers and a machine-gun, and you will have something just as good, and you will save your country a great deal of expense.
BATHING IN TEARS
“Some of the soldiers in those trenches,” said a doctor, recently back for a rest, “don’t get a chance to wash for weeks at a time. They eat like bears, they never take cold, their health is superb—but, dear me, how they look, with never a wash! ”

“ They are telling a story in Switzerland about what would happen if the Kaiser violated Swiss, as he has already violated Belgian, neutrality.
The Kaiser was amazed at a Swiss drill by the shooting of the Switzers, who all scored bull’s-eyes.
“Wonderful shots!” said the Kaiser to a Swiss general. “Wonderful shots!”
“And we have, your Majesty, 100,000 such shots in the Swiss army,” the general answered.
The Kaiser laughed, and in a joking way he said:
“But suppose I invaded you with 200,000 soldiers?”
“In that case, your Majesty,” said the other, “we should each of us fire twice.” ”

“ At a “certain place in France” where the British and German trenches are within shouting distance of each other, the German soldiers were loudly singing one of their favorite war songs, “Gott mit uns! Gott mit uns!”
These “vain repetitions” palled on the Britons after a time, and at last an exasperated Jock arose in wrath and shouted across to the enemy, “Hae dune wi’ yer bletherin’! Ilka yin o’ us has got mittens tae, tho’ we dinna mak’ sic a fash aboot them.” ”

“ On the night of Hogmanay, at about half-past ten, the regiment assembles in the barrack square. A few minutes later the oldest soldier in the battalion, dressed [64] up as a druid, makes his appearance, to the accompaniment of a flourish of trumpets, and ascending the improvised throne, he calls on the ancient veterans to show their uniforms and achievements of bygone times. To the music of the pipes and brass band, veteran after veteran, arrayed in the uniforms worn by the regiment at different periods, marches past, and salutes the druid. ”

“ Aide-de-Camp to Grand Duke Nicholas—“We have just captured a motor-car containing a German of very high rank. We think it is the Kaiser.”
Grand Duke—“For heaven’s sake release him at once. He is our best asset in the field. He always gives the wrong instructions and interferes at the wrong moment.” ”

“ It was so in the Russo-Japanese war, and it seems to arise from a growing respect for one’s adversary in sharing common hardships and danger. National feeling gives way before the fellow-feeling for the man opposite, who, after all, is not responsible for the war, but only obeying orders.
As one paper said at the time of the incident in this present war, “The little tales of the Christmas truce in the trenches prove that the gospel of brotherhood is more powerful than the gospel of hate.” ”

“ What would you say if one of our soldiers went to France without his gun?”
Tommy—“Please, sir, I should say he was an officer.”
SOMETHING TO THINK OF
The awkward squad had been having a lecture in musketry. Just before they were dismissed the instructor asked one of them:
“Why is the rifle placed in the hands of a soldier?”
“To protect my life,” came the prompt reply.
The instructor glared at him.
“Protect your life!” he snorted. “Who’s bothering about your life? The rifle, my lad, is placed in your hands for the destruction of the King’s enemies!” ”

“ The man who drinks a lot is known as a “mopper,” and “bun-stranglers” are temperance soldiers.
A Reservist is a “dug-out,” a recruit a “rookie,” and a veteran an “old sweat.” A wheelwright in the artillery is a “spoky,” while the long-service medal is called the “rooti” medal—“rooti” being the slang term for bread, because the owner has eaten most. Puttees are known as “war socks,” and jam as “possie.”
INFORMATION WANTED
The way they do things in some of the odd corners of the British Empire, where they are comparatively free from wireless telegrams, is very pretty. ”

“ Colonel Kemyss, of the 40th Regiment, was remarkable for the studied pomposity of his diction. One day, observing that a careless man in the ranks had a particularly dirty face, which appeared not to have been washed for a twelvemonth, he was exceedingly indignant at so gross a violation of military propriety. ”

“ LATEST SCOUTING STORY
One of the most dangerous duties a scout is called upon to perform in war-time is that of ascertaining whether some particular position is or is not occupied by the enemy’s forces. ”

“ The other day some Scottish Territorials were at the rifle butts. One of the men, a tailor by trade, was making exceedingly bad practice, and missing the target every shot. At length the officer in command became angry, and inquired gruffly:
“Can you not see the target, sir? Surely you, as a tailor, must thread your own needle!” ”

“ Their talk in barrack-room and camp would at times puzzle the most versatile of linguists, for “Tommy” prides himself on the originality of his expressions. He has already developed a slang of his own in connection with the German war, and the official despatches mention that he has dubbed the huge German shells “coal-boxes,” “Black Marias,” “Jack Johnsons,” and “suit-cases.” Trenches exposed to artillery fire are “stalls for the pictures,” while when an artilleryman makes a good shot he chuckles over the fact that he has “handed the Germans a good plum.” ”

“ A recruiting sergeant, holding forth on the absolute necessity of every man enlisting, encountered an Irish wit.
“Halloa, John! Why can’t you join the Colors? I don’t know how any man can stand aside in such terrible circumstances. ”

“ In ordinary conversation “Tommy” speaks of his clothes as his “clobber,” and the canteen as the “tank,” [19] a man who talks too much being known as a “chin-wagger.” To be in hospital is to be “in dock,” while money is referred to as “oof,” “rhino,” “the ready,” “pewter,” or “shiners.” A sovereign is a “canary,” and if a man wants to borrow money he is “trying to raise a station” or “to get his feet under” (meaning the canteen-table) . ”

“ Whereupon the officer, turning to the corporal in charge of the gun, said:
“Corporal, do you see that light?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Put a hole through it,” ordered the captain.
The corporal sighted the gun, and, when all was ready, he looked up and said:
“Captain, that’s the moon.”
“Don’t care for that,” was the captain’s ready response; “put a hole through it, anyhow.”
UNDER CANVAS
“Yes,” sighed the mother, “I am so often worried about my boy John. You have no idea how much concerned a mother is when her son is on the tented field.” ”

“ Altogether the Kaiser owns about forty castles and country houses, valued at $10,000,000, and various property in Berlin, approximately worth $5,000,000. In seven different provinces he owns seventy-four estates, comprising close on half a million acres.
It is interesting to note that ever since Germany began to make preparations for a great war the Kaiser has been investing immense sums of money on the other side of the Atlantic. He is one of the largest landowners in the Western United States—not in his own name, of course—and owns a considerable section of property in the West of Canada. ”

“ The black sheep of the regiment stood before his commanding officer charged with being drunk. He stoutly denied the offense, and there was only one witness, a sergeant, to prove it. However, the records showed eleven previous convictions for the same offense.
“You are a hardened and habitual offender,” said the captain, sternly. “I can’t take your denial against the sergeant’s word.”
The prisoner turned to the sergeant-witness, and asked, “Have you ever been drunk?” ”