_Jones._ Well, it must come from somewhere! Can you tell me where? _Robinson._ Why should we? _Brown._ Yes, why should we? Even Cobden didn't go so far as that, and----But, here we are at the station. [_Invasion of porters, and end of the conversation._ * * * * * [Illustration: EASTER MANOEUVRES. _Extract from Private Letter.--April 1._ "I'm afraid Milly and I have put our respective feet in it this time. We thought we would test our capacities at hospital work, and attach ourselves to pa's regiment--of course, without telling pa--and were getting along quite nicely with a soldier who wasn't very well, when we met pa and the General and his regiment. They took away the patient, and judging from pa's looks, there's a warm time coming."] * * * * * [Illustration: SUGGESTED HELMET FOR ARMY MOTORISTS The new helmet as ordinarily | The same, as worn on worn. | motor duty. _Directions:_--Simply unhook the lower portion of the helmet; thereby extending the collapsible weather-and dust-proof mask. Admirable also as a disguise.] * * * * * [Illustration: FLAG WAGGING _Sergeant of Signallers._ "What ai's Murphy to-day? He don't seem able to take in a thing!" _Private Mulvaney._ "Shall I signal to 'im, 'Will ye 'ave a drink?'?" * * * * * [Illustration: TU QUOQUE. _Army Candidate._ "And I only muffed one thing in the geography paper. Couldn't for the life of me think where the Straits of Macassar were!" _Fond Father._ "Oh, I say, you ought to have known that. Fancy--the Straits of Macassar!" _Army Candidate._ "Well, I didn't, anyhow. By the way, where are they, dad?" _Fond Father._ "Oh--where are they? Oh--er--they're--well, they're---- but don't you think we'd better go to lunch?"] * * * * * [Illustration: A HORSE-MARINE _Club Wag._ "Well, good-night, Admiral." _Warrior._ "There's a stupid joke. Admiral! Can't you see my spurs?" _Wag._ "Oh, I thought they were your twin screws."] * * * * * [Illustration: _Sentry_ (_on the simultaneous approach of two persons_). "Who goes there?--two ways at once!"] * * * * * MILITARY DIALOGUES II ARMY REFORM SCENE.--_The canteen of the Rutlandshire Regiment, at Downboro', an airy, plastered hall with high windows. A bar at one end is backed by a rampart of beer barrels. A double line of barrack tables and benches runs down the room. The hour is 5 p.m. At one of the tables sits Mr. W. Wilson, late Private in the regiment, in all his glory of a new check suit with an aggressive pattern, a crimson tie, a horseshoe pin, an aluminium watch-chain, a grey "bowler" and a buttonhole of violets. Privates W. and G. Smith, P. Brady, E. Dudd and other men of H. company are at the table, or standing near it._