a Major once--but that's for another article.

Beneath the heading "Bat" I find _Bat Maker_ (_brick_) and _Bat
Maker_ (_tennis_). Under which king, James? Anyway, I hate a man who
talks about a "tennis bat." He would probably call football shorts
"knickers."

I am favourably inclined towards _Bathing Machine Attendant_ (why
not _Bathing Mechanic_, for short?) What a grand affair to ride old
Dobbin into the seething waves and pretend he was a sea-serpent!
Confidentially, there are lots of people to whose bathing-machines
I would give an extra push when I had unlimbered their vehicles and
turned Dobbin's nose again towards the cliffs of Albion.

My pleasure in stirring things with a ladle nearly decided me to train
as a _Bean Boiler_; but I fear the monotony. Nothing but an endless
succession of beans, with never a carrot to make a splash of colour
nor an onion to scent the steamy air. And, James, I have a friend who
is known to all and sundry as "The Old Bean." Every bean I was called
upon to boil would remind me of him, whom I would not boil for worlds.

Here is something extraordinarily attractive--_Black Pudding Maker_.
You know black puddings. I am told that when you stew them (do not eat
them cold, I implore you!) they give off ambrosial perfumes, and that
after tasting one you would never again touch _pèche Melba_. But as a
_Black Pudding Maker_ should I become nauseated?

Almost next door comes _Blood Collector_. Wait while I question the
Mess Cook ... James, I cannot become a Black Pudding maker. The Mess
Cook tells me that _Blood Collector_ and _Black Pudding Maker_ are