It was a puzzle to all as to how he got his commission. He was tall and spruce, most scrupulous in the fit of his uniform, but absolutely too lazy to learn his job. He was something of a joke as an officer, yet his men got to like him for his good humor and absolute indifference to the censure of his superiors. In instructing a squad he would quite calmly read aloud out of a drill-book right under the eyes of the colonel, and his air of calm assurance under rebuke would so annoy his superiors that he frequently escaped much censure, for few senior officers are willing to display a loss of temper in front of the men, as it makes for a loss of dignity. One day Jerry found a sentry asleep at his post while he was on "visiting rounds" as officer of the guard. All Jerry did was to drawl out: "Next time you go to sleep, my lad, you'll wake up in hell!" As a matter of fact, he was too good-natured to have a man punished, and as the boys realized this, they would not let any one take advantage of him. We did not think there was anything that Jerry could do properly until the first concert. These concerts were weekly affairs, and we had three artists who were equal to the best. Tom Dawson, the Tivoli comedian, who was afterward killed in France, was one of us and always willing to provide half a dozen songs, with his india-rubber face stretched to suit each part. He was a prime favorite. Then we had an operatic tenor who could sing a solo from almost any Italian opera, but his talent was not appreciated--some one would be bound to call "Pretty Joey!" in the middle of his most impassioned passages. He got plenty of applause when he sang about "the end of a perfect day," even though the day had been as beastly as a severe storm could make it for a thousand-odd men cooped up so closely that only a third of them could see the sky at one time. His efforts to educate our musical taste completely failed, for the announcement that he was going to sing in Italian always raised cries of "Steaka-de-oyst!" "Fiji banana!" etc. Another real artist played the mandolin, and when he appeared with it first of all he was greeted with cries of "Gertie!" As he played, however, he held the boys spellbound and never after failed to get an encore, though many still held that a mandolin was only a "sissy" instrument. But the star performer, to every one's surprise, was Jerry. Here was one thing he could do, at any rate! His recitation of "Gunga Dhin" brought tears to our eyes, and thereafter no programme was complete without this item.