That evening, Hamilton paid his subordinate a visit. Henry, pleasingly arrayed in a pair of the misdirected garments with a large bonnet on his head, and seated on the floor of the quarters contentedly chewing Bones' watch, whilst Bones, accompanying himself with his banjo, was singing a song which was chiefly remarkable for the fact that he was ignorant of the tune and somewhat hazy concerning the words.
"Did you ever take a tum-ty up the Nile, Did you ever dumpty dupty in a camp, Or dumpty dumpty on m—m—— Or play it in a dumpty dumpty swamp."
He rose, and saluted his senior, as Hamilton came in.
"Exactly what is going to happen when Sanders comes back?" asked Hamilton, and the face of Bones fell.
"Happen, sir? I don't take you, sir—what could happen—to whom, sir?"
"To Henry," said Hamilton.
Henry looked up at that moment with a seraphic smile.
"Isn't he wonderful, sir?" asked Bones in hushed ecstasy; "you won't believe what I'm going to tell you, sir—you're such a jolly old sceptic, sir—but Henry knows me—positively recognizes me! And when you remember that he's only four months old—why, it's unbelievable."