"Oh, the field of Mars, fat-head!" Patrick snapped and rang off. A
quarter of an hour later he was called to the phone once more and
the familiar bleat of Jimmy tickled his ear. "Excuse me, Sir--whose
mother?"

On the other hand the great Brass Hat is human and makes a slip, a
clerical error, now and again sufficient to expose his flank. And
then the humble fighting-man can draw his drop of blood if he is
quick about it. To this same long-suffering Jimmy was vouchsafed the
heaven-sent opportunity, and he leapt at it. He got a chit from H.Q.,
dated 6/7/17, which ran thus:--

"In reference to 17326 Pte. Hogan we note that his date of birth is
10/7/17. Please place him in his proper category."

To which Jimmy replied:--

"As according to your showing 17326 Pte. Hogan will not be born for
another four days we are placed in a position of some difficulty.
_Signed_ ----

"P.S.--What if, when the interesting event occurs, 17326 Pte. Hogan
should be a girl?

"P.P.S.--Or twins?"

Our Albert Edward is just back from one of those Army finishing
schools where the young subaltern's knowledge of SHAKESPEARE and the
use of the globes is given a final shampoo before he is pushed over