This talk was interrupted by the sergeant exclaiming, “Now then, you youngsters, look out, and get ready for the doctor’s inspection.”
“We haven’t had any breakfast; we want breakfast,” cried several voices.
On this the sergeant ordered in breakfast for us, in the shape of a half-quartern loaf and two ounces of butter for every four recruits. That over, we were marched to the bath-rooms.
“Now then, young ’uns, strip; get into that bath; scrub and clean yourselves,” cried the sergeant; “for it’s time that you were at the inspection-room.”
Having done as we were ordered, we marched off to the inspection-room, where we waited till the doctor arrived, who was to say whether or not we had bodily health and strength to serve Her Majesty. We had been waiting, not a little anxious, when the sergeant cried out—
“Recruit Armstrong, pass at once into the inspection-room.”
On hearing my name, I ran into the room. The doctor looked at me for a moment, and then said—
“Stand on one leg.” I did so. “Now on the other. Bend over until you touch the ground.”
I had seen the recruits at the barracks do that, and had tried it often; so did it with ease.
“Rise again,” said the doctor. “Hop on your right leg. Now on your left. Put out your arms at right angles to your body. Cough. Can you see well? Read those dots.”