Commodore Sir RICHARD WILLIAMS-BULKELEY, Bt., at the offices of "Navy
Week," 5, Green Street, Leicester Square, W.C. 2.

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[Illustration: THE SCRAPPER SCRAPPED.]

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[Illustration: _Sergeant_ (_to cadet_). "SIT BACK, SIR! SIT BACK!
THINK WOT A BLINKIN' FOOL YOU'D LOOK IF 'IS 'EAD WAS TO COME ORF!"]

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THE WATCH DOGS.

LXIII.

My dear Charles,--I never meant to give myself away; I meant to go
on talking about the old War till the end, just as if I was taking a
leading part in it, so that you should have still believed I was doing
the bull-dog business with the best of them. But no, let me be honest
and tell you that I have practically ceased to be a dog. The only
painful connection I can boast of recently with the War is that,
having cause to travel from place to place in this country, I was
unhappy enough to strike six meatless days in succession, which gave
me to think that even embusquing in France has its drawbacks. On
the seventh day I was accused, by good people who know not Thomas,
of being (1) a Russian, (2) an American, (3) a Belgian, and (4) an
Irishman, which made me feel that these gaudy colours I have burst