“Well, what d'you think of it, undertaker?” said Andrews. “Nothing.” “Why?” The undertaker turned his small black eyes on Andrews and looked him straight in the face. “You know what's the matter with me, don't yer, outside o' this wound?” “No.” “Coughing like I am, I'd think you'd be more observant. I got t.b., young feller.” “How do you know that?” “They're going to move me out o' here to a t.b. ward tomorrow.” “The hell they are!” Andrews's words were lost in the paroxysm of coughing that seized the man next to him. “Home, boys, home; it's home we want to be.” Those well enough were singing, Stalky conducting, standing on the end of his cot in his pink Red Cross pajamas, that were too short and showed a long expanse of skinny leg, fuzzy with red hairs. He banged together two bed pans to beat time. “Home.... I won't never go home,” said the undertaker when the noise had subsided a little. “D'you know what I wish? I wish the war'd gone on and on until everyone of them bastards had been killed in it.” “Which bastards?” “The men who got us fellers over here.” He began coughing again weakly. “But they'll be safe if every other human being....” began Andrews. He was interrupted by a thundering voice from the end of the ward. “Attention!” “Home, boys, home; it's home we want to be.” went on the song. Stalky glanced towards the end of the ward, and seeing it was the major, dropped the bed pans that smashed at the foot of his cot, and got as far as possible under his blankets. “Attention!” thundered the major again. A sudden uncomfortable silence fell upon the ward; broken only by the coughing of the man next to Andrews. “If I hear any more noise from this ward, I'll chuck everyone of you men out of this hospital; if you can't walk you'll have to crawl.... The war may be over, but you men are in the Army, and don't you forget it.” The major glared up and down the lines of cots. He turned on his heel and went out of the door, glancing angrily as he went at the overturned screen. The ward was still. Outside whistles blew and churchbells rang madly, and now and then there was a sound of singing. II