the way we had come. An English private soldier was detailed to go on
listening-post with me. Again, the raw soldier is never left to his own
devices on first coming in. He is given the support of a veteran on all
occasions, unless under some very special condition.

"Hie!" called the private to me, "where're yer goin' to?"

"Back, ye bally ass!"

He looked his contempt. "'Ave yer b'ynet fixed?" he asked, by way of
answer.

"Bayonet fixed?"

"Yes," said he, "'urry up! We're late."

"Late?" I repeated.

"For Gawd's syke," he exclaimed, "don't yer know as 'ow we are goin' hout?
Goin' over to the German trenches--goin' hout!"

[Illustration: ©_Famous Players--Lasky Corporation. Scene from the
Photo-Play_

THE END OF A PERFECT DAY.]

[Illustration: Cheerful beggars]

I gulped. "Going to make a charge?"