Then we commenced passing shipping; a man at the tiller of a Cornish fishing boat waving his cap to us made it clear that we were getting back to our real ain folk once more. At eight in the evening we were lying off Netley Hospital, and taking in the proffered advice of a large board in a field by the waterside to eat Quaker Oats, and by twelve o'clock the following night I was home once again. The treking, the fighting, the guards and pickets, the hospitals are done with now. My small part in the game has been played, and, with a slight and permissible alteration, the concluding lines of a favourite poem must end these simple records. "But to-day I leave the Army, shall I curse its service then? God be thanked, whate'er comes after, I have lived and toiled with men!" BURFIELD & PENNELLS, PRINTERS, HASTINGS.