[5] Of course because the French were the enemy in that campaign. [6] Kincaid’s _Adventures in the Rifle Brigade_, 2nd edition, 1838, p. 222. [7] See report of meeting of the Lowland Scots Society, held in Edinburgh on November 25, 1915. [8] An old air, subsequently set to the song _My Tocher’s the Jewel_. [9] _Campaigning in Kaffirland_, by Capt. W. R. King, 1853, p. 27. _THE NEW UBIQUE: SPIT AND POLISH._ BY JEFFERY E. JEFFERY. ‘Per_son_ally myself,’ said the Child, tilting back his chair until his head touched the wall behind him, and stretching out a lazy arm towards the cigarette-box--‘per_son_ally myself, I’ve enjoyed this trip no end--haven’t you?’ ‘I have,’ I answered; ‘so much so, Child, that the thought of going back to gun-pits and trenches and O.P.s again fills me with gloom.’ It was our last night in a most comfortable billet near ----, where, on and off, we had spent rather more than a month of ease: on the morrow we were going into the line again. The trip to which the Child was referring, however, was an eight days’ course at a place vaguely known as ‘the --th Army Mobile Artillery Training School,’ from which our battery had but lately returned. The circumstances were these. When, five weeks ago, the division moved (for the _n_th time!) to a different part of the line, it transpired that three batteries would be ‘out at rest,’ as there would be no room for them in action. It also so chanced that it was our colonel’s turn to be left without a ‘group’[10] to command. This being so, he suggested to higher authorities that the three batteries ‘out’ should be those of his own brigade, in order that he might have a chance ‘to tidy them up a bit,’ as he phrased it. Thus it was that we found ourselves, as I have said, in extremely comfortable billets--places, I mean, where they have sheets on the beds and china jugs and gas and drains--with every prospect of a pleasant loaf. But in this we were somewhat sanguine.