I will draw the veil of reticence over the remainder of this harrowing narrative. The procession back to Brigade Head-quarters has become historic. The attempt to remove the soup tureen on the spot caused its unhappy possessor such agony, and gave rise to so much unseemly and ill-repressed mirth on the part of the audience, that it was hastily abandoned, and the wretched man was led gently back to his dug-out. The Brigade-Major, who had been notified over the telephone, met him at the entrance with a handkerchief suspiciously near his mouth. "How dreadful, sir!" he murmured, in a voice that shook a little. "I have--er--sent for a tin-opener." The General was led to a chair, into which he sank wearily, while in hushed tones the Colonel explained what had happened to the shaking Staff. "I was told that the General had been seen going down to the front line alone," he remarked in a low tone, "and so I at once followed him. Just as I got to the craters there was a small Hun raid. I let drive at one of them with my revolver, and the next instant I fell through a hole, full on top of some one's back. He let out a roar of pain and scrambled up. Of course I thought it was a Hun, and proceeded to beat him over the head with my stick. Great Scott, what a show!" The Colonel mopped his brow, and the Staff shook still more. "I'd dropped my revolver, or I'd probably have shot him. Then suddenly there was a clang, and the hole was closed up, while at the same moment something charged past me, head down, and hit the wall. There was a roar of pain, and the tin became a fixture. The poor old boy had rammed the wall with the soup tureen." A gurgling noise from the chair interrupted him. "What is it, sir?" cried the Staff Captain, solicitously. The General hooted mournfully. "Yes, sir. He'll be here very soon, sir. Not much longer now. We've sent for a tinsmith from one of the Engineer companies." But the booming cantata continued. "What does he want?" whispered the Staff Captain. "A drink?" The Brigade-Major looked hopeful. "Yes; get a whisky and soda and a straw, if there's one left." The booming died away. A few minutes later the Staff, ably assisted by the General's batman, got one end of the straw into the worthy Brigadier's mouth. The Colonel closed those holes he could see with his fingers, and the signalling officer held the drink. "Now, are we ready?" cried the Brigade-Major anxiously. "All right, sir--suck." The experiment was not a success. Jets of liquid spurted in all directions, an explosion like a geyser shook the tin, and the Staff recoiled a pace. In fact, I am given to understand that the chief clerk, an intensely interested spectator, so far forgot himself as to counsel the Staff Captain to "sit on 'is 'ead." "Do you think we could do anything with one of those instruments for opening tongues?" hazarded the Staff Captain, when the silence had become oppressive and the outbursts of fire extinguished.