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Rh you, Generaal. It is not upright of you at all. I do not think you ever wish this war to finish.”

' “It's a first-class dress-parade for Armageddon,” says the General. “With luck, we ought to run half a million men through the mill. Why, we might even be able to give our Native Army a look in. Oh, not here, of course, Adrian, but down in the Colony—say a camp-of-exercise at Worcester. You mustn't be prejudiced, Adrian. I've commanded a district in India, and I give you my word the native troops are splendid men.'

' “Oh, I should not mind them at Worcester,” says Adrian. “I would sell you forage for them at Worcester—yes, and Paarl and Stellenbosch; but Almighty!' he says, “must I stay with Cronje till you have taught half a million of these stupid boys to ride? I shall be an old man.”

' Well, Sir, then and there they began arguing whether St. Helena would suit Adrian's health as well as some other places they knew about, and fixing up letters of introduction to Dukes and Lords of their acquaintance, so's Van Zyl should be well looked after. We own a fair-sized block of real estate—America does—but it made me sickish to hear this crowd fluttering round the Atlas (oh yes, they had an Atlas), and choosing stray continents for Adrian to drink his coffee in. The old man allowed he didn't want to roost with Cronje, because one of Cronje's kin had jumped one of his farms after Paardeberg. I forget the rights of the case, but it was interesting. They decided on a place called Umballa in India, because there was a first-class doctor there.