Ah, well, it will be a sad and disappointing end to a promising career, won't it, Mr. Punch? I feel sure if Lord KITCHENER knew the facts of the case he would do something about it. Perhaps you could approach him on the matter. Still, I have read somewhere that life can be supported on four bananas a day. I can get eight bananas for an anna here, and I have Rs. 1, As. 7, P. 2 remaining in my money belt. I leave you to work it out. I remember now that a wandering Punjabi fortune-teller revealed to me at Christmas that I should live to be 107. That was one of his best points. He also told me that I should be married three times and have eleven children; that I had a kind heart; that a short dark lady was interested in my career; that the KAISER would be dethroned next June; and that fortune-telling was a precarious means of livelihood and its professors were largely dependent upon the generosity of wealthy _sahibs_ such as myself. Wealthy! But he was a true prophet in one particular. He foretold that I should shortly be unhappy on account of a parting. Seriously, Mr. Punch, it was hard to say good-bye to all my friends; it is not cheering to reflect now that they are a thousand miles away, amid fresh and fascinating scenes, about to undergo novel and wonderful experiences from which I am debarred. But there is one lesson which the Army teaches very efficiently--that, whatever one's personal feelings, orders have to be obeyed without question. And I suppose they also serve who only sit and refer correspondents to obscure sub-sections and appendices of Army Regulations, India. Yours ever, ONE OF THE _PUNCH_ BRIGADE. * * * * * [Illustration: FOR NEUTRAL NATIONS. BRITANNIA STILL SITTING ON THE COPPER.] * * * * * THE COLLECTOR. Once upon a time there was an Old Gentleman who lived in a Very Comfortable Way; and some of his Neighbours said he was Rich and others that, at any rate, he was Well Off, and others again that at least he had Considerable Private Means. And when the Great War broke out it was clear that he was much too Old to fight, and he wasn't able to speak at Recruiting Meetings on account of an Impediment in his Speech, and he had no Soldiers billeted upon him, because there were no Soldiers there, and he could not take in Belgian Refugees because he lived on the East Coast--so he just read the Papers and pottered about the Garden as he used to do before. But after a time it was noticed that he began to "draw in," as his Neighbours said. First he gave up his Motor, and when his Gardener enlisted he didn't get Another; and he never had a Fire in his Bedroom. And his Neighbours, on thinking it over, concluded that he had been Hard Hit by the War. But None of them knew how.