"Call that a lecture!" scoffed Stoneway, when the officer had gone. "Does he take us for an infant school? Giving us pap like that!" "You shut your face!" said Ginger. "The young feller spoke downright good common sense, much better ’n you’d expect from a chap as went to one of them there public schools. He said a thing or two I didn’t know, nor you either, Stoneway. ’Course he didn’t go to the root of it; dursn’t cry stinking fish. What’s the root? Why, boots. These ’ere things they’ve gi’en us, they’re no good. They’re made to raise blisters, they are, and they’ll just mash when we get the rain." "They’re only temporary, I believe," said Kenneth, "till the factories can turn out army boots in sufficient quantities." "That’s the English Government all over," said Stoneway, with a sneer. "Nothing ready: no boots, no rifles----" "Oh, stow it!" cried Ginger. "What did you ’list for if you’re going to grouse all the time? The worst of it is, you can’t resign: we shall have to put up with you, I s’pose, unless you mutiny, or strike your superior officer, or do something else to get dismissed the army. Come on, boys; let’s go and see the pictures. We’ll be back in time to draw some soup from the cook-house, 8.30 to 9." That is a fair sample of the day’s work during the next two or three months. It was monotonous, but, during the dry autumn, healthy. When the rainy weather set in, hardship began to be felt. The men often got drenched to the skin; their temporary boots, as Ginger had foretold, became pulp. The factory was bleak and draughty, in spite of its gas stoves. There was a certain amount of sickness, and an increase in the number of offenders to be dealt with every morning by the colonel. But the men were well fed, and cheered by presents of tobacco and cigarettes from kindly townsfolk; and many wet, dull evenings were enlivened by concerts and entertainments got up by friends of the officers. Kenneth and Harry steadfastly declined offers of promotion as N.C.O.’s, but owing to their knowledge of drill they were made right and left guides of their platoon. They bought a football, and got up inter-company matches in which No. 3 Company distinguished itself. Indeed, both in work and play No. 3 Company became the crack company of the battalion. The captain, an old army man who had been retired some years and was some little time picking up the details of the new drill, was a good sportsman and a hard worker, and by the end of January the company was thoroughly efficient and knit together by that esprit de corps which is the soul of fighting men. Then came vaccination and inoculation. Stoneway was the ringleader of a little group that declined the doctor’s attentions, to the disgust of Ginger and the majority. "You’re a traitor, that’s what you are," said Ginger to Stoneway when the latter flatly declined to be poisoned, as he put it. "You’ll go and catch some rotten disease or other and give it to us."