Didn’t sleep much last night, for some reason. Think I was too tired. This is the third night I’ve lost time. Beginning to feel it now. But no one else seemed to sleep well either, or at least they didn’t go to sleep right off. Lights out at ten and all supposed to be “tucked in.” Then came various remarks from the darkness; choice, unprintable remarks about the Kaiser, the Government, the Sergeant, certain Corporals, who doubtless heard all their well-wishers had to say, but could not identify the speakers. Indeed, it struck me that the fellows had hit upon a choice way of telling certain non-coms what they thought of them, without the possibility of getting in bad. Then arguments started in the darkness, and the vocal combatants were urged on by catcalls and encouraging yells from various sections of the unlighted room, and presently shoes started flying. About that time the Top Sergeant upstairs woke up, and decided to investigate. Silence fell in the big room when the stairs, creaking under his weight, gave warning that the crusty old veteran of fifteen years’ service with the Regulars was on his way down. [Illustration: The Top Sergeant made the round of the cots] The door opened and a pocket flashlight began to travel from cot to cot. But strangely enough every one was slumbering contentedly, and some even snoring. The Top Sergeant made the round of the cots, reached the door and “doused his glim.” Then with a most impressive introduction of profanity he remarked that “The next ——, ——, son-of-a-bandmaster, who started anything would spend the rest of the night out on the porch in his underclothes,” whereupon some wag from the darkness replied: “Put t’ Kaiser out there, he started it.” While others sweetly remarked: “Good-night Ser_geant_.” “Pleasant dreams, dear.” “Come kiss me good-night.” and “Don’t forget to tuck us all in.” But things eventually subsided and I dozed off, only to be awakened later by some one kissing me on the cheek. It was startling to say the least, and I sat up. I thought perhaps the Sergeant had come back to say good-night. Then it happened again, only this time on my hand, and I heard an eager little whine, and a sniff-sniff-sniffing that told me plainly a dog was beside my cot. I chirped encouragingly and up he came. Then he dived between the blankets and burrowing deep worked his way down to the foot of my cot. Evidently he had slept in army cots before. All my efforts to dislodge him were futile and I knew that unless I got up and unmade my bed he would not come out. So I left him, and he in gratitude kept my feet warm.