The soldiers came on in a straight line towards the great door of the kitchen. They had an extraordinarily complicated method of marching, taking two steps in advance and then one backwards, and this was made all the more difficult for them because discipline enjoined that each man should place his feet accurately in the footsteps of the leader. This man's feet, by an ingenious arrangement, left white marks in the ground. When the leading soldier arrived at the door, since it was not permitted him to turn his back upon such an august assembly, he had to take his departure marching backwards, and so had all those who followed after him. From that moment there were two long lines of soldiers, one going forwards, the other going backwards; but all the soldiers had their noses, their chests, their knees, and their big toes pointing in the same direction--the door of the kitchen. When the review was over, the Chief Contractor was so pleased that he decided that they must have a similar review every week. He had a fence erected round the traces left by the soldiers' feet, so that they would not be effaced, but could be used again each week. Just as this was finished Smaly noticed that the eye of the Mother of the Crow was regarding him steadfastly. Suddenly the eye winked as though to signal him to approach. Smaly began to walk towards the eye; but it occurred to him on reflection that it was towards the Mother of the Crow herself that he ought to turn his steps, and not towards her eye, which, after all, was merely hung in a locket round the neck of her son. Therefore he turned and approached the oyster-shell, where the Mother of the Crow was seated. The Wigs were no longer taking any notice of him; they were eating ices, and chatting together in their mellifluous voices. They had all put on thick gloves, for the warmth of the fresh pastry of which their hands were composed would have melted the ices. [Illustration: HE DECIDED THAT THEY MUST HAVE A SIMILAR REVIEW EVERY WEEK] * * * * * "None of them really knows what a soldier is," said the Mother of the Crow in a low voice to Smaly. "Oh," said Smaly; "but _you_ know, don't you?" "Certainly I know. Soldiers are beings who cut up the meat that men like you eat, who hack down big trees, who kill the beautiful horned animals for food. You see I know perfectly well what a soldier is, and one can always tell a real soldier because he carries big knives, axes, saws, razors, and scythes." "H'm! Not at all," contradicted Smaly with the air of one beginning a lecture. "A soldier is a man who fights other soldiers." "What?" asked the Mother of the Crow. "How is that possible when they are both the same thing?" "I assure you that it is so," replied Smaly. The Mother of the Crow reflected; but catching sight of the Wigs, who were putting the soldiers back in their boxes at the end of the courtyard, she began again. [Illustration: THEY HAD ALL PUT ON THICK GLOVES]