It is calculated to improve their marksmanship, to teach
them to grasp an opportunity, to apply their tactical training, and to
render them cool in the hour of crisis.
Inspired by this truth he attempts to pull off an awkward losing
hazard. This effort is ruined by an appalling miscue which affects the
new cloth. The Colonel justly blames the chalk, removes the pet-dog
of the battalion from his path with his foot, and makes for the
scoring-board. The volunteer marker inadvertently puts the Colonel's
modest score on to the large total of the Adjutant.
At this critical moment an orderly fortunately arrives with a note
from the Brigade office. The Colonel secures the missive, tears the
envelope to shreds, runs his eye over the trivial contents, and
curses the War. He then assumes an air of enormous importance, excuses
himself, and stamps out into the night.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Ancient Heroine_. "IT'S BEEN A TRYIN' TIME FOR ME,
MRS. BLOGGS. MY SAVIN'S-BANK BOOK WAS UP IN LUNNON ALL THROUGH THE
AIR-RAID.
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