ACT II.--_The Scene represents a Field of Battle (after the fight) in the immediate neighbourhood of London._ TOMMY ATKINS _and the_ Military Instructor _discovered lying badly wounded amidst a heap of the slain. A European War having broken out suddenly, from which the Country could not escape, and the Fleet at the last moment, finding that it had only half its proper supply of guns, and that the very few of these which did not burst at the first shot had ammunition provided for them that was two sizes too large, the Country is invaded, while a Committee of Experts is still trying to settle on a suitable cartridge for the new Magazine Rifle. The result is, that after a couple of pitched battles, though in an outburst of popular fury_, Mr. STANHOPE _is lynched by the Mob to a lamp-post in Parliament Street, London capitulates, and the French Commander-in-Chief, breakfasts, waited on by the_ LORD MAYOR, _in the Bank of England._ _Military Instructor_ (_sitting up and rubbing his eyes_). Dear me! we seem to have been beaten. That Rifle was no good, after all. (_Recognising him._) Halloa, ATKINS! _Tommy Atkins_ (_with a grin_). 'Ees, Sir! _Military Instructor_. You remember all I told you? _Tommy Atkins_ (_still grinning_). 'Ees, Sir! _Military Instructor_. I'm afraid that wasn't such a serviceable weapon, after all! _Tommy Atkins_ (_still grinning_). Noa, Sir! _Military Instructor_. Dear me! Well, we had better get out of this! By Jove! it looks like the last Act! [_Mutually assist each other to rise and quit the Battle-field, the_ Military Instructor _threatening to write to the "Times," and_ TOMMY ATKINS _still grinning as Curtain falls._ * * * * * [Illustration: _Sylvanus_. "FOXES ARE SCARCE IN MY COUNTRY; BUT WE MANAGE IT WITH A DRAG NOW AND THEN!" _Urbanus_. "OH--ER--YES. BUT HOW DO YOU GET IT OVER THE FENCES?"] * * * * * UNDER A CIVIL COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. ["What possible chance would Col. X., Member for ----, feel that he had of fair play if he walked into the Opposition side in a Division?"--_Evening Paper_.] SCENE--_A Battle-field. Colonel X. discovered apparently dying in the hour of victory._ _Faithful Aide-de-Camp_. The enemy run, Sir! We have beaten them off on every side! _Colonel_ (_faintly_). That is well! (_with a sigh_) and yet my heart is heavy within me! Believe me, SMITH, I cannot die easily. _F.A.-de-C._ And yet the vacancy thus created would be found a stimulus to promotion! Have you thought of that, Sir?