The other nodded. "In the words of the song:
'There's no carpet on the floor,
And no knocker on the door,
Oh, ours is a happy little home . . .'
Phillips, bring me the menu, and let's see the messman has succeeded in being funny without being vulgar."
Corporal Phillips brought the menu with the air of one who connives at a felony. "Messman says, sir, it ain't all 'e'd like it to be, what with guests comin' and that. But I says to 'im, 'war is war,' I says, 'an' we can't expect eggs-on-meat entrées, same's if it was peace time.'"
"To-day's beautiful thought!" remarked the Indiarubber Man when the corporal had withdrawn. "Really, Phillips has a knack of disclosing great truths as if they were the lightest gossip."
The Engineer Commander came in, glancing at the clock. "Five minutes more and the What Ho's will be here. Bunje, my lad, you were responsible for this entente—have you any idea what we are going to do with them after dinner?"
"None," replied the Indiarubber Man; "none whatever. It will come to me sudden-like. I might dress up as a bogey, and frighten you all—or shall we try table-turning? Or we could dope their liquor and send them all back insensible. Wouldn't that be true Oriental hospitality! They'd wake up to-morrow morning under the impression that they'd had the night of their lives."
The members of the mess began to collect round the fireplace with the funereal expressions customary whenever a mess-dinner is impending.
"Which of the What Ho's are coming?"
"Where're they going to sit?"