It was my Sergeant-Major who told me next day that Chaucer and his gang had taken possession of the Riviera—my Riviera. I went there at once, to find out what it all meant, but they had a sentry at the foot of the slope, who said the camp was infected and no one was allowed there; so I climbed the slopes and looked down from above. Chaucer was smoking outside my pet hut talking to a couple of his subalterns, and a string of men was lined up beside the field kitchen for tea. Close by, the batman, recovered from his illness, was putting a fishing-rod together, and one of the subalterns blew his nose on a gaudy handkerchief which I recognised at once.
I went straight back and told the Town Major of Ripilly that one of the new divisional huts was being occupied by the Sappers. It wasn't cricket, but it was all I could do.
"That's all right," he said. "Chaucer's acting as divisional R.E. He's entitled to one hut. He told me he had been arranging for you to erect it for him."
LIFE'S DIFFICULTIES.
Mother. "WHY, WHAT'S THE MATTER, DARLING?"
Small daughter (tearfully). "OH, MUMS, I DO SO WANT TO GIVE THIS WORM TO MY HEN."
Mother. "THEN WHY DON'T YOU?"
Small daughter (with renewed wails). " C-COS I'M SO AFRAID THE WORM WON'T LIKE IT."