* * * * *

"Darling," cried the handsome young private, "I told the Colonel of
our engagement, and he said at once I might bring you to tea at our
Mess any Sunday afternoon."

* * * * *

One night, as Private Jones and the Sergeant-major were strolling
arm-in-arm through the High Street...

* * * * *

"Remember," said the old Major, eyeing his eighteen-year-old subaltern
son with a shrewd affectionate glance, "a little well-placed courtesy
goes a long way. For instance, if a Sergeant should call you 'Sir,'
never forget to say 'Sir' to him."

* * * * *

Osbert, his cane dangling from his left hand and with Mabel at his
side, sailed proudly down Oxford Street. Suddenly a Tommy hove in
sight. At once Osbert passed his stick to his other hand, leaving
the left one free. The next moment the man was saluting, and Osbert,
bringing up his left hand in acknowledgment, passed on.

"It is always well to be scrupulously correct in these little
details," he explained.