_Tuesday_.--Bugle sounded too early for Assembly. Sent a message to the Adjutant by his orderly (with my compliments) saying that I would feel much obliged if the Parade were postponed an hour. Adjutant returned _his_ compliments, with a request that I would give in writing my reason for desiring a delay. Explained (by word of mouth) that I wanted to read the newspapers. Parade consequently postponed as requested. Obliging chap the Adjutant! _Wednesday_.--Warned for Guard. Sent for the Major of my half-battalion (don't like bothering the Commanding-officer about every trifle), and explained that, although the Surgeon had seen me, and reported me fit, I had a presentiment that the easterly winds would play the very mischief with me if I went "Sentry Go." Major thought, perhaps it would be better if I were struck off duty. Excused Guard in consequence. Good sort Major of my half-battalion! _Thursday_.--Sorry to find rations very unsatisfactory. Complained to the Officer of the day, who reported the matter to the Captain. Captain said he would have asked the entire company to dine with him at his Club had he not been engaged. He then passed us on to his Subs. The latter most obligingly gave us some food at a Restaurant. _Châteaubriand_ excellent, _Sole à la Normande_ decent, but _Potage à la bisque_ too rich. Mistake to order the latter, as one can never get it _really_ good, except on the Continent. Wine tol-lol. Pol Royer of '84. However, spent a very pleasant evening. Both Subs, when you know them, not half bad fellows! _Friday_.--Rather a head, and felt generally out of sorts. Warned for Kit-inspection. Couldn't stand this, so called upon General Commanding District. Not at home, but was asked would I see his _locum tenens_? Replied in the negative, as I don't believe in go-betweens. Didn't return to barracks, as I thought I might get a breath of sea-air at Southend. _Saturday_.--Arrested and conveyed to the Guard-room. Suppose I shall be released with a caution. At any rate, for the present, diary confiscated. * * * * * [Illustration: THE GARDEN OF SLEEP; OR, "PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT!" _Miss India_. "EVICT ME? WITH PLEASURE, SAHIB. BUT HOW ABOUT 'COMPENSATION FOR DISTURBANCE?'"] * * * * * In the heart of fair Ind, which JOHN BULL hopes to keep, Trade planted a Garden--a Garden of Sleep; 'Neath the hot Eastern sky--in the place of good corn-- It is there that the baneful white Poppy is born,-- Chinese Johnny's desire, lending dreams of delight, Which are his when the poppy-juice cometh in sight. Oh! the Mart hath no heart, and Trade laugheth to scorn The plea of friend PEASE, where the Poppies are born.