As I was passing one of their men, a regular "Ole Bill," who was seated on the fire-step, I heard him say, "Artists' Rifles, eh; I wonder if any of you chaps would _paint_ me a plate of 'am and eggs!"--_R. C. Toogood, 43 Richmond Park Avenue, Bournemouth._ Why the Fat Man Laughed During the winter of 1914-15 the trenches were just like canals of sloppy mud, and dug-outs were always falling in. To repair the dug-outs pit-props were used, but they often had to be carried great distances up communication trenches, and were very difficult to handle. The most popular way to carry a prop was to rest one end on the left shoulder of one man and the other end on the right shoulder of the man behind. On one occasion the leading man was short and fat, and the rear man was tall and thin. Suddenly the front man slipped and the prop fell down in the mud and splashed the thin man from head to foot. To add to his discomfort the little fat man gave a hearty laugh. "Can't see anything to larf at, mate," said the mud-splashed hero, looking down at himself. "I'm larfing," said the little fat Cockney, "'cos I've just remembered that I tipped the recruiting sergeant a bloomin' tanner to put me name down fust on his list so as I'd get out here quick."--_A. L. Churchill (late Sergt., Worcs. Regt.), 6 Long Lane, Blackheath, Staffs._ He Met Shackleton! The troops in North Russia, in the winter of 1918-19, were equipped with certain additional articles of clothing designed on the same principles as those used on Antarctic expeditions. Among these were what were known as "Shackleton boots," large canvas boots with thick leather soles. These boots were not at all suitable for walking on hard snow, being very clumsy, and they were very unpopular with everyone. The late Sir Ernest Shackleton was sent out by the War Office to give advice on matters of clothing, equipment, and so on. When he arrived at Archangel he went up to a sentry whose beat was in front of a warehouse about three steps up from the road, and said to him, "Well, my man, what do you think of the Shackleton boot?" To this the sentry replied: "If I could only meet the perishing blighter wot invented them I'd very soon show----" Before he could complete the sentence his feet, clad in the ungainly boots, slipped on the frozen snow, and slithering down the steps on his back, he shot into Sir Ernest and the two of them completed the discussion on Shackleton boots rolling over in the snow!--_K. D., Elham, near Canterbury._ Domestic Scene: Scene, Béthune Near the front line at Béthune in I917 was a farm which had been evacuated by the tenants, but there were still some cattle and other things on it. We were, of course, forbidden to touch them. One day we missed one of our fellows, a Cockney, for about two hours, and guessed he was on the "scrounge" somewhere or other. [Illustration: "... only taking the kid and the dawg for a bit of a blow."]