"Oh, a mess-tent is as good a place as anywhere else if the cookery and wines are all right," was the only reply I received that had the slightest bearing on the military situation. Then my companions refused to talk of anything further save the racing fixtures for the following fortnight. At Aldershot I found a number of omnibuses drawn up, labelled "House of Commons," which were soon occupied by elderly ladies, who appeared to be excellent representatives of our Legislators. Seeing that the flymen had arranged a tariff that measured distances with sovereigns, and hours with bank-notes, I determined to walk to the Long Valley, and my example was largely followed. Smartly-gowned ladies, and men whose attire suggested the shady side of Pall-Mall, dispensed with all conveyances, and sturdily trudged to the review ground, to the intense disgust of the cabmen, whose harvest could not have been particularly lucrative. The only vehicles that we saw on the road were waggons filled with country-folk, and harnessed to heavy lumbering cart-horses, that moved very deliberately and slowly, and now and again a London coach. A specimen of the last came up to me just as I was getting out of the town--it was occupied by a company of ladies and gentlemen with an up-all-night look about them. As a matter of fact, I believe it had started shortly after midnight, or thereabouts. I recognised one of the occupants, who, until he caught my eye, had seemed rather depressed, but who, upon exchanging greetings with me, assumed a most jovial air, and seemed quite to wake up. He subsequently told me that he had never enjoyed himself so much. "Up over-night, you see, then a long drive in the dawn and early morning, getting to Aldershot before the QUEEN. Review, lunch, and home again." The last item, I fancy, must have been rather an anti-climax, although my friend would not admit it. However, I have a kind of instinct that should there be another big Review, he will choose the rail in preference to the road.