at times."

"Then," said Nijinsky, "wer-will you per-please use yours, for. I
ker-can't let you through without a pup-pass."

The sun shone brightly on the car as it retired ignominiously, leaving
Nijinsky hot, happy and victorious, presenting arms faithfully to the
indignant Great Ones, and silence reigned on the battlefield.

He came and spluttered it all out to me afterwards, concluding with
"I der-didn't let the ker-company down this time, Sir, der-did I?" and
evidently expected a pat on the back for it.

Teams of infuriated artillery horses wouldn't drag from me whether
he got it or not, but from that day to this he has never looked back.
Indeed he has begun to take a pride in his personal appearance and
general smartness. I met him yesterday wearing a smile like a slice
of melon and with his boots, and buttons glistening in the sunshine.

"The General came through to-day, Sir," he said, beaming, "and he
her-had a pup-pass all right;" and he strutted on, making strange
noises in his throat, which I understand is the Yiddish for being
pleased with yourself.

L.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Alf_. "AIN'T YOU GOIN' TO EAT ANYFINK, 'ERBERT?"