“These little things ensure popularity, and do not the least affect discipline.”
“But I went back on my word,” said the Colonel.
“Never mind,” said the Second-in-Command. “The White Hussars will follow you anywhere from to-day. Regiments are just like women. They will do anything for trinketry.”
A week later, Hogan-Yale received an extraordinary letter from some one who signed himself “Secretary, Charity and Zeal, 3709, E. C.,” and asked for “the return of our skeleton which we have reason to believe is in your possession.”
“Who the deuce is this lunatic who trades in bones?” said Hogan-Yale.
“Beg your pardon, Sir,” said the Band-Sergeant, “but the skeleton is with me, an’ I’ll return it if you’ll pay the carriage into the Civil Lines. There’s a coffin with it, Sir.”
Hogan-Yale smiled and handed two rupees to the Band-Sergeant, saying, “Write the date on the skull, will you?”
If you doubt this story, and know where to go, you can see the date on the skeleton. But don’t mention the matter to the White Hussars.
I happened to know something about it, because I prepared the Drum-Horse for his resurrection. He did not take kindly to the skeleton at all.