My mare has developed a devil of a temper of late, and bites and kicks like anything--a sign of exuberant vigour. Fortunately she gets on well with my other horse, and they don't "strafe" each other in the stable. To get horses in the same stable on good terms with each other is largely a question of feeding them at the same time. My second horse, which my servant rides when we are on the move, is a jolly little chestnut, very strong and hardy, with a magnificent long tail. I ride him and the mare on alternate days. Horses are ridiculous creatures. They will eat all sorts of things, even wood, mud, and pieces of coal, as if from sheer cussedness. It can't be because they are hungry, as they get plenty to eat in the way of oats, hay, dry clover, etc. Sometimes, as if from devilment, they will roll in the mud a few minutes after they have been nicely groomed. Some of our regiments have a lot of mules, which are given to fearful brayings--a sound which is a cross between a horse's whinny, a donkey's hee-haw and an elephant's trumpeting. Mules bite and kick each other continually, but they will do any amount of work when so inclined. _November 29th, 1915._ I see that the Welshmen are coming out. May they strafe the Boches to the wide! I hope the Cymry will prove themselves worthy successors to Owain Glyndwr and all the other grand old chiefs who have given us such a name in arms. Times have changed, and to-day, instead of smiting your foe with a club or a sword, you "strafe" him with gas-shells and machine-guns. The old way was the best, but the natural instinct of all things animate to fight remains, as it always will remain. We have received some of _The Times'_ broad-sheets. I don't exactly know whether they are good or not. It is undoubtedly a benefit to have "bits" from great writers to skim over when you haven't the time, or the inclination, to wade through a volume. On the other hand, it is intensely aggravating to experience the feeling of incompleteness that naturally results from having your reading suddenly cut off. _December 3rd, 1915._