"When you have carried in that pail come at once to the darkened tent at the head of the street." "Yes, sir." "What is your name, sir?" to another. "Mr. Ummerstot, sir." "Mr. Upstart! I would like to know, Mr. Upstart, if you have no superior whose pail needs tilling as well as your own? Go home at once, and then report at my tent. The one with no light in it." "Yes, sir." When six more were under orders, Randolph strolled back to the front of his tent, and as fast as the plebs came up, he passed them in. They might stand at ease, but must not talk above a whisper. When they were all in hiding, Randolph spoke through the closed door of the tent. "Mr. Johnson!" in a low undertone. "Yes, sir." "Your special technical name for this evening is _Hippotherium_. Do you hive it?" "Yes, sir." "Mr. Upstart! Your special name till tattoo is _Semnopithereus_." "Mr. Parboil!" "Mr. Carboil, sir," said the poor pleb, with a mild preference for his own name. "I said _Parboil_. Your name will be _Cereopithereus_. Mr. Cereopithereus, you are first cousin to Mr. Semnopithereus, and according to Darwin, you each bear the same relation to a man that a pleb does to his superiors." So the eight names were given, and then Randolph began again: "Mr. Ichthyosaurus, you and your fellow animals will answer to your special technical names at roll-call, by a growl. You, sir, are an extinct reptile. Did you ever hear an extinct reptile growl?" "No, sir." "You other animals, stop that unseemly snicker. Where have you lived, sir, all your life to know so little?" "In Massachusetts, sir." "The very headquarters of fossil life. Well, sir, if you have any imagination at all, growl as nearly as you can in the hypothetical voice of that extinct reptile called an Ichthyosaurus." A low growl, ending in a suppressed chuckle. "Order there, in the zoölogical museum! Mr. Hippotherium!" and another growl followed in a different key. "How," said Randolph, when the roll had been gone through, "the countersign is: 'Here comes the unsuspecting stranger!' Do you understand?" The painful general growl that answered him was cut short by a smothered laugh. "Attention! When you hear the countersign and see the tent flap lifted you are to growl all together, with your deepest and heaviest roar." A few minutes passed silently by. Randolph loitered about near the tent, as one might do who found the evening air refreshing. Then suddenly Adjutant Cox passed down the colour line. "Say, Cox," Randolph hailed him, "come and see what I've got in my tent." Thinking only of boodle, for which he had a soft spot, Mr. Cox came up, and pushed back the tent flap.