"Anywhere you like," said the Sage of Fleet Street. "But are you sure that we are not unduly trespassing on your time?"
"Not at all—only too delighted. It's all in the day's work. We have a lot of distinguished visitors that we have to take round. I like it myself, but some of our fellows kick against it. Of course it doesn't refer to you two; but you can fancy what a nuisance it must be for all our fellows to have to get up in full rig, and bow and scrape, and march and countermarch, and go through the whole bag of tricks, to some third-rate Royalty? Ah! they are happier off at Aldershot, aren't they?"
"No doubt," was the prompt reply.
Mr. Punch and Father TIME had now entered a barrack square, wherein a number of trembling recruits were standing in front of a sergeant.
"I am just putting them through their paces, Sir," said he: "they are a bit rusty in bowing drill."
The A.D.C. nodded, and, turning on his heel, explained to the visitors that it was the object of the Authorities to introduce as much as possible of the civil element into the Army.
"You will see this idea carried out a little further in the institution we are now entering," he added, as the three walked into a building that looked like a handsome Club-house. At the door was an officer in the uniform of the Guards.
"Hullo, HUGHIE," said the A.D.C., "on duty to-day?"
"As hall-porter. CHARLIE is smoking-room waiter. I say, do you want to take your friends round?"