Suddenly the roof gave way and the horse fell through, narrowly missing myself and my pal, who was also a Cockney. [Illustration: "They want to come to bed wiv us."] After we had got over the shock my pal said, "Well, if that ain't the blinkin' latest. These long-eared blighters ain't satisfied with us looking after them--they want to come to bed with us."--_F. E. Snell (late 27th Brigade, R.F.A.), 22 Woodchester Street, Harrow Road, W.2._ General Salute! While "resting" at Bully-Grenay in the winter of 1916 I witnessed the following incident: Major-General ---- and his A.D.C. were walking through the village when an elderly Cockney member of a Labour battalion (a typical London navvy) stumbled out of an estaminet. He almost collided with the general. Quickly pulling himself together and exclaiming "Blimey, the boss!" he gave a very non-military salute; but the general, tactfully ignoring his merry condition, had passed on. In spite of his pal's attempts to restrain him, he overtook the general, shouting "I did serlute yer, didn't I, guv'nor?" To which the general hastily replied: "Yes, yes, my man!" "Well," said the Cockney, "here's anuvver!"--_A. J. K. Davis (late 20th London Regt., att. 73rd M.G.C.), Minnis Croft, Reculver Avenue, Birchington._ Wipers-on-Sea Scene, "Wipers"; Time, winter of 1917. A very miserable-looking R.F.A. driver, wet to the skin, is riding a very weary mule through the rain. Voice from passing infantryman, in the unmistakable accent of Bow Bells: "Where y' goin', mate? Pier an' back?"--_A. Gelli (late H.A.C.), 27 Langdon Park Road, Highgate, N.6._ He Rescued His Shirt During the latter stages of the war, with the enemy in full retreat, supply columns and stores were in most cases left far behind. Those in the advance columns, when marching through occupied villages, often "won" articles of underclothing to make up for deficiencies. Camberwell Alf had a couple of striped "civvy" shirts, and had lent a less fortunate battery chum one of these on the understanding that it would be returned in due course. The same evening the battery was crossing a pontoon bridge when a mule became frightened at the oscillation of the wooden structure, reared wildly, and pitched its rider over the canvas screen into the river. Camberwell Alf immediately plunged into the water and rescued his unfortunate chum after a great struggle. Later the rescued one addressed his rescuer: "Thank yer, Alf, mate." "Don't yer 'mate' me, yer blinkin' perisher!" Alf replied. "Wot the 'ell d'yer mean by muckin' abaht in the pahny (water) wiv my shirt on?"--_J. H. Hartnoll (late 30th Div. Artillery), 1 Durning Road, Upper Norwood, S.E.19._ A Smile from the Prince One morning towards the end of May 1915, just before the battle of Festubert, my pal Bill and I were returning from the village bakery on the Festubert road to our billets at Gorre with a loaf each, which we had just bought.