for to be sint back home. Love-o'-Women was mighty sorry bekaze he had uo work to do, an' all his time to think in. T've heard that man talkin' to his beltplate an' his side-arms while he was soldierin' thim, all to prevent himself from thinkin', an' ivry time he got up afther he had been settin' down or wint on from the halt, he'd start wid that kick an' traverse that I tould you of—his legs sprawlin' all ways to wanst. He wud niver go see the docthor, tho' I tould him to be wise. He'd curse me up an' down for my advice; but I knew he was no more a iman to be reckoned wid than the little bhoy was a commandin' orf'cer, so I let his tongue run if it aised him.

'Wan day—'twas on the way back—I was walkin' round camp wid him, an' he stopped an' struck ground wid his right fat three or four times doubtful. "Fwhatis ut?" sez. "Is that ground?" sez he; an' while I was thinkin' his mind was goin', up comes the docthor, who'd been anatomisin' a dead bullock. Love-o'- Women starts to go on quick, an' lands me a kick on the knee while his legs was gettin' into marchin' ordher.

'"TTould on there," sez the docthor; an' Love-o'Women's face, that was lined like a gridiron, turns red as brick.

'«'Tention," says the docthor; an' Love-o'-Women stud so. "Now shut your eyes," sez the docthor. "No, ye must not hould by your comrade."

'Tis all up," sez Love-o'- Women, thrying to smile. "Vd fall, docthor, an' you know ut."

"Fall?" I sez. "Fall at attention wid your eyes shut! Fwhat do you mane?"

'"The docthor knows," he sez. "I've hild up as