"So the General sits down with 'is Staff an' 'ammers away at it, an' cuts down the bills till 'e ain't givin' more than fifteen pence for 'arf-a-crown's worth of stuff, an' by an' by, round comes the Gov'mint. 'I've dropped in to see 'ow we're getting on,' ses 'e. 'Some of the corps,' ses the General, 'wants training in one way, I find, an' some in others, so I propose that the Commanding Off'cers of the various districts should adapt the training to the requirements of the troops under their command, an' should carry it out wherever we consider it would be most advantageous.' 'Splendid,' ses the Gov'mint. 'Speak it into the funnygraph that I may listen to it by nights. We'll do it,' ses 'e, 'at some future date. Just now I want ye to get 'em all together in one spot where the correspondents of the Daily Press can see an' realize from their own personal observation what a mighty weapon we are creatin'. The spectacle of tens of thousands of our brave defenders practisin' together the evolutions of war will be amazin' to them. Never again will they dare assert that we are neglectin' the defences of the country. The next three elections,' ses the Gov'mint, 'ought to be certs.' "'But,' ses the G.O.C., 'there won't be space to train quarter of them properly.' 'Oh, never mind,' ses the Gov'mint, 'give 'em enough room to turn round, an' stick a sintry on every telegraph pole, an' tell 'em it's all practice; they won't know any better. Hevins an' earth! I ought to be playin' Bridge with Lady Betty by now! Tar-tar,' ses 'e; 'be good.' "'Well,' ses the G.O.C., goin' to the sideboard an' mixing a couple o' stiff ones, 'wash it down with that,' 'e ses, givin' one to 'is Staff. 'Well, of all the dam nonsense!' 'e ses, fallin' into a chair. ''Twas ever thus,' ses the Staff, bein' by nature poetic. "An' now, Sir," said "Tiny" to the Junior Subaltern, "things bein' like this, what would _you_ do under the circumstances?" [Illustration] The Seven Ages of the Volunteer. [Illustration: (1)] [Illustration: (2)] At first the raw Recruit, unused to arms And awkward at his drill, thinking the "manual" The very deuce. Then the bold "Lance," Quick to salute, and glad to have escaped His turn as orderly. And then The Sergeant, full of wrath because His section, squad, or what you will, Misunderstand him, and do fail To grasp the thing he drives at. Then he's a "Sub," and cannot for the world Imagine how on earth they ever did without him, Don't you know. [Illustration: (3)] [Illustration: (4)] [Illustration: (5)] [Illustration: (6)]