his more exalted moments expressed a yearning to master every
instrument of the Band.

"There's nothing to prevent your becoming a Bandmaster, Lew," said
the Bandmaster, who had composed waltzes of his own, and worked
day and night in the interests of the Band.

"What did he say?" demanded Jakin after practice.

"Said I might be a bloomin' Bandmaster, an' be asked in to 'ave a
glass o' sherry wine on Mess-nights."

"Ho! 'Said you might be a bloomin' noncombatant, did 'e! That's
just about wot 'e would say. When I've put in my boy's service
it's a bloomin' shame that doesn't count for pension - I'll take
on as a privit. Then I'll be a Lance in a year - knowin' what I
know about the ins an' outs o' things. In three years I'll be a
bloomin' Sergeant. I won't marry then, not I! I'll 'old on and
learn the orf'cers' ways an' apply for exchange into a reg'ment
that doesn't know all about me. Then I'll be a bloomin' orf'cer.
Then I'll ask you to 'ave a glass o' sherry wine, Mister Lew, an'
you'll bloomin' well 'ave to stay in the hanty-room while the
Mess-Sergeant brings it to your dirty 'ands."
-
"S'pose I'm going to be a Bandmaster? Not I, quite. I'll be a
orf'cer too. There's nothin' like takin' to a thing an' stickin'
to it, the Schoolmaster says. The Reg'ment don't go 'ome for
another seven years. I'll be a Lance then or near to."

Thus the boys discussed their futures, and conducted themselves