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 We were soon qualified for sentry duty, and at first found it pleasant enough, especially when we were supplied with fruit and a smile "over the garden wall." "Sentry go" meant two hours on duty and four off for twenty-four consecutive hours.

Tea was served at a quarter to four, and consisted of tea and bread and butter, with "snacks" for those who could afford to buy them.

From 5 till 6 the sergeant-major had another parade, and we were dismissed till 9.30, when "First Post" sounded, "Second Post" at 10, and "Lights out" at a quarter past 10.

This was the general daily routine, but on certain days it was varied. I was much struck with the appearance of the rooms when the officers made the "kit inspection" on Saturdays. Then every article of Government property comprised in the soldier's kit had to be neatly arranged on his bedstead so that their condition could be readily seen, and the soldier stood at attention at the bedside ready to answer any question. One day Dick at kit inspection got into momentary trouble. "No blacking tin here," said the officer, pointing to Dick's kit, but he took no further notice. The sergeant, however, gave Dick a rare wigging, and wanted to know where it was. Dick had mixed the blacking with water in a jam jar, and was only waiting till he could get a brush, when he purposed ornamenting the barrack room with some startling design of his own.

We looked forward eagerly to the time when we should be able to get to the butts and have some shooting. The ordinary recruit had to go through a careful training before he was allowed to shoot, but Dick and I soon showed our proficiency in musketry, and were glad enough to be told after one lesson in aiming drill that we could begin class-firing at once.

Dick was delighted, and in a merry mood made for the laundry, as he said he had a grievance in that quarter. I give his version of what happened:—

"Serve me right," said he, "I deserved all I got. I pushed the washhouse door open, and chucking one of the women under the chin, I said, 'Look here, Lady Soapsuds, don't you scrub the buttons off my shirt like you did last week.' For which I got a spank on the face with a wet shirt, and a jug of water from a negress, and a