_Mr. Ad. Off._ Nothing more than the usual meaningless cruising. _Un. Ins.-Gen._ I read something about the landing of the wounded? _Mr. Ad. Off._ Ah--that _is_ new! We are going to "assume" a number of wounded. To quote from the _Regulations_--"Before the ships leave for the ports, officers in command of fleets and squadrons are to communicate to each Commander-in-Chief, by telegraph, the aggregate number of assumed wounded that may be expected to reach his port." _Un. Ins.-Gen._ Tell me what do we want with these pointless Manoeuvres? Wouldn't it have answered everyone's purpose if there had been a lecture in lieu of them at the Royal United Service Institution? _Mr. Ad. Off._ I should not be surprised. _Un. Ins.-Gen._ Then why run into this unnecessary expense? _Mr. Ad. Off._ You really must ask my successor! [_Exeunt severally._ * * * * * THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CANVASS. (_A PURELY IMAGINARY SKETCH._) [Illustration: "_You_ know 'ow to do it!"] SCENE--_A Portico in Portman Square. Mr. BENJAMIN GULCHER (an ardent Radical Artisan, canvassing the district on behalf of a "pal" of his, who is putting up as a Labour Candidate), discovered on the doorstep._ _Mr. Gulcher_ (_to himself--after knocking_). Some might think it was on'y waste of time me callin' at a swell 'ouse o' this sort--but them as lives in the 'ighest style is orfen the biggest demmycrats. Yer _never_ know! Or p'raps this Sir NORMAN NASEBY ain't made his mind up yet, and I can tork him over to _our_ way o' thinking. (_The doors are suddenly flung open by two young men in a very plain and sombre livery._) Two o' the _young_ 'uns, I s'pose. (_Aloud._) 'Ow _are_ yer? Father in, d'yer know? _First Footman_ (_loftily_). I don't know anything about your father, I'm sure. Better go down the airey-steps and inquire there. _Mr. G._ (_annoyed with himself._) It's my mistake. I didn't see yer were on'y flunkeys at first. It's yer Guv'nor _I_ want--the ole man! _First Footman_ (_with cold dignity_). If you are illewding to Sir NORMAN, he is not at home. _Mr. G._ (_indignantly_). 'Ow can yer tell me sech a falsehood, when I can see him myself, a-dodgin' about down there in the passage! (_Forces his way past the astonished men into the hall, and addresses a stately Butler in plain clothes._) 'Ere, Sir NASEBY, I've come in to 'ave a little tork with you on the quiet like. _The Butler_ (_not displeased_). I don't happen to be Sir NORMAN himself, my good man. Sir NORMAN is out. _Mr. G._ Out, is he? _that's_ a pity! I wanted to see him on important business. But look 'ere--p'raps his Missus is in--_She'll_ do! (_To himself._) I gen'ally git along with the wimmin-folk--_some_ 'ow! _The Butler._ I can't say if her Ladyship is at home. If you like to send up your name, I'll inquire.