The young man looked puzzled for a moment, and then took the gentle hint. Next day the bill was settled. SYMPATHETIC SOUL Scene—Soldiers’ concert at which no alcoholic liquors are being supplied, the men being served with mineral waters by young lady helpers. Soldier (to young lady helper)—“Do you see that the man who is singing has got his eyes half-shut?” Young Lady—“So he has. What’s he doing that for?” Soldier—“He can’t bear to look at us. He knows wot we’re sufferin’.” A QUESTION OF DIET During a particularly nasty dust-storm at one of the camps a recruit ventured to seek shelter in the sacred precincts of the cook’s domain. After a time he broke an awkward silence by saying to the cook: “If you put the lid on that camp kettle you would not get so much of the dust in your soup.” The irate cook glared at the intruder, and then broke out: “See here, me lad. Your business is to serve your country.” “Yes,” interrupted the recruit, “but not to eat it.” A GENTLE HINT The British soldier is never at a loss when sarcasm is needed, and an example of his readiness was seen only the other day. A long route march had been in progress and the officer had been none too patient. Several times he had had occasion to speak strongly to the men. At last, on the march home, the order came, “March easy”—the time when songs are indulged in. There was no call for “Tipperary” this time, but unanimously they started singing, “Kind Words Can Never Die.” A MATTER OF PUNCTUATION Bix—“I see there’s a report from Holland that concrete bases for German cannon have been found there.” Dix—“Don’t believe a word you hear from Holland. The geography says it is a low, lying country.” AND THERE ARE OTHERS First Lady—“I see the master cutting a dash this morning. Nobody would think he was hard-up.” Second Lady—“Lor’ bless yer, no! Since this ’ere Merrytorium come in he walks down the High Street in front of all the shops as though he didn’t owe ’em a penny.” SOME BONEHEAD 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.” PROUD OF IT A train loaded with wounded soldiers drew up at a certain station. Among these was one whose face could not be discerned for bandages. “You poor, poor boy,” sympathized an English lady, who approached him timidly. “Madam,” replied the soldier, with as much pride as springing to attention would convey, “don’t pity me. Pity my chums in the train there, who got hit where it won’t show.” “Why, why,” she stammered. “I thought you would not like to be disfigured.” “Disfigured!” the soldier replied, scornfully; “I am not disfigured, I am decorated!” DIPLOMACY