"A nock!" bellow the platoon, with stunning enthusiasm. (All but
Private M'Micking, that is.)

"A clock, sir," translates the sergeant, _sotto voce_.

"A clock? All right: but what I wanted was a steeple. Then, farther
away, we can see a mine, a winding brook, and a house, with a wall in
front of it. Who can see them?"

To judge by the collective expression of the audience, no one does.
Bobby ploughs on.

"Upon the skyline we notice--Squad, '_shun!_"

Captain Wagstaffe has strolled up. He is second in command of A
Company. Bobby explains to him modestly what he has been trying to do.

"Yes, I heard you," says Wagstaffe. "You take a breather, while I
carry on for a bit. Squad, stand easy, and tell me what you can see on
that target. Lance-Corporal Ness, show me a pit-head."

Lance-Corporal Ness steps briskly forward and lays a grubby forefinger
on Bobby's "mine."

"Private Mucklewame, show me a burn."

The brook is at once identified.

"Private M'Leary, shut your eyes and tell me what there is just to the
right of the windmill."