"Take care, sir," said the Buccaneer, "that you do not make my soldiers too thin skinned. A pampered dog won't fight, and a hound too finely bred will not face the prickles of a gorse bush. Whatever my soldiers were in the past they fought well, and have built up for me a reputation, that I hope my soldiers of to-day and those who lead them and those who guide them will know how to keep. The deeds, Master Dogvane, of the brave lads that are gone are written on tablets placed on the walls of the Temple of Fame. Let no foul breath of calumny be breathed over them, for whatever sins they have committed have been washed out with their own blood. One thing, Master Dogvane, they at least had, and that was, good trusty steel."
Dogvane took the hint, and thought that a little candour would best serve his purpose. "It has come to my ears, sir, that our modern steel is not quite up to the mark, so to test it I have ordered a Royal Commission to sit upon our bayonets and cutlasses, and if they can support without bending or breaking so severe a strain, their temper must be good indeed. It has been said too, amongst other things, that your machine guns occasionally jam and I will not deny that it is so, when they are in the hands of your sailors, but, then, they are such merry devils that they would jam almost anything."
The War Minister now being called upon to continue his report, said: "Your militia, sir, which has always been considered the backbone of your army gives us little or no consideration, and it seems to get on very well without our interference. Whatever care, attention, and patronage we have to spare we bestow it upon your volunteers—a most worthy body of men, costing you but little; not encumbered with too much equipment, and fed and nourished almost entirely upon official butter, which is the cheapest of all articles of food, on a recent occasion, sir, when you were engaged in operations in Egypt."
"In Egypt!" the Buccaneer exclaimed, and the hot words of the gipsy came back upon him, and he was lost for a while in his own moody thoughts.
For a time the War Minister spoke to deaf ears. "You bought thousands of camels, and mules, and pack-saddles innumerable. After the purchase was completed we were delighted to find that these saddles were for the most part perfectly useless, as they would not fit any animal in your possession, so we were enabled to sell them at a considerable loss."
"Is this right, Master Dogvane?" the Buccaneer asked, waking up.
"It is quite constitutional, sir, and is the result of your peculiar and long cherished system. I do not say that things would not work better under a round hole for a round man plan; but you are so accustomed to the other that to change might be dangerous. It would certainly be revolutionary."
The War Minister continued. "In purchasing your stores, sir, we also acted upon principle and custom. We gave as few orders as possible to your own people; but distributed them as evenly as we could amongst your neighbours."
The Buccaneer was about to make a reply; but Dogvane nipped it in the bud by saying: "It is quite constitutional, sir." If this was so of course the old Sea King had nothing to say, for he loved his constitution.
"Our beef and pork," said the War Minister, "we get from our cousin, the cheap-Jack Jonathan. Our sauce we get from your neighbour, Madame France."