"Rather rough, eh?" said he, with a glance at a tray containing a
cork-screw and an empty bottle.

"A bit better than Bermuda. If we don't coerce them, we must be
polite. After all, fagging turned out the heroes of Winchester and
Westminster, and wasn't Waterloo won on the playing-fields of Eton?"

"Rather a dangerous game, isn't it?" observed _Mr. Punch_. "You'll
have to fall in next, and TOMMY will inspect you, and give you a
couple of days' extra drill for not having cleaned your rifle!"

"Well, if I don't look after my arms, I shall have merited the
punishment; and, after all, it will only be a case of turn and
turn about," was the reply. Then the A.D.C. added, "Hang me, too, I
believe, with all we fellows have to do nowadays, that if we _did_
change with TOMMY ATKINS, we, and not he, would have the best of the
bargain!"

[Illustration]

Leaving the Soldiers' Club, _Mr. Punch_ and Father TIME continued
their journey. They had not proceeded far, when the A.D.C. invited
them to enter a building known as the Museum.

"It really is a most useful and interesting institution," said the
officer of the Planet Mars. "Here, you see, we have portrait models of
the officer of the past and present. In the past, you will notice, he
sacrificed everything to athletic sports--if he could fence, shoot,
hunt, and play cricket, polo, and football, he was quite satisfied.