"What-ho, Willie," cried Big Bob, as he espied him for the first time. "What yer so quiet about?" Willie gave an imperceptible shudder as the bully shouldered his way through the intervening groups. "'Ere, boys, Little Willie's goin' to give us a cormic song!" A roar of applause greeted this announcement, and several of Willie's particular tormentors closed up around him. "I carn't sing to-night," protested the victim, feebly. "More yer can any other time!" Another round of applause followed this sally. "Ain't yer going to offer us a tip at yer mug?" Big Bob said, as he caught up the tankard from the floor. "In course, if yer ain't wet enough already," answered Willie. "Mates," said the offended one, pointing dramatically at the youth on the bucket--"Mates, the nipper's 'inted as 'ow I'm squiffy! Then take yer bloomin' tipple; Oi'll 'ave none of it!" and he poured the whole contents of the pot over the luckless young soldier. Willie rose with an angry flush, but someone from behind caught him by the ankle and sent him rolling to the floor. [Illustration: "WEEPIN' WILLIE, TAKE THET."] "So-o-o, yer wants to fight, does yer?" cried Big Bob, as he jerked the lad to his feet again. "What proice thet, Sandow!" and he administered a terrific box on the ear to the half-dazed Willie. It was by no means the first time that Willie had "gone through the mill," but he was getting rather sick of the process, and resolved to show fight. "Yer bloomin' set of bullies!" he blurted out. But just then a leg from the encircling crowd neatly tripped up our young gallant and deposited him on the floor again. Once more he struggled to his feet, but as he looked round the circle of grinning faces, all many inches above him, and as he thought of his own dear little Nellie "walking out" with the fellow who was making his life unbearable, he felt a lump rise in his throat; his fists unclenched, and in another second he had sunk down on the upturned bucket, sobbing as if his heart would break, and his hot tears mingled with the beer that was trickling from his hair. "Law lumme, he's acshally _weepin'_!" A roar of derision and disgust rose from the astonished soldiers. Then every man solemnly fetched his drink, and poured it over the prostrate lad. "'Weepin' Willie,' take thet," was the formula, as each man upset the contents of his can. At that moment the door opened, and those who stood nearest it drew themselves up to "attention" as Captain Trevor, who had heard the noise as he was passing by, strode into the room. "What's this?" he said, addressing the crestfallen gang of tormentors. "Off you all go to your barrack-rooms at once, and don't let this ever happen again in A Company." They were only too glad to get off so easily, and in less than a minute Captain Trevor and Private Fox were alone. "What does this mean, Fox? Why, surely, man, you've not been _crying_!" "Please, sir, I couldn't 'elp it, I did feel so wretched like."