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SMITHY’S foreign service covers India, South Africa, and the Far East. It also embraces the Western circuit. You must know that there is a sort of Military-Cook’s-Tour, that begins pleasantly at Bermuda, continues luxuriously to Halifax, N.S., goes on to Jamaica and the islands about, and ends unsatisfactorily in South Africa. Unsatisfactory because in South Africa it sometimes takes a new lease of life, and wanders from the Cape to Natal, then to Mauritius, and from there to Colombo, Singapore, Hong Kong, and so home. In the days of which Smithy speaks there used to be a regular itinerary for the corps that missed India. Smithy does not count Gibraltar as foreign service; he has his doubts about Malta, and Egypt is only “foreign” in the hot months.

“Crete’s a rum place, an’ so is Aden, Suez is—well, everybody knows what Suez is; Singapore ain’t so bad. One of our chaps, under the influence of drink, drowned a Chinaman in a water-butt an’ got fourteen days’ cells for pollutin’ the water supply. Hong Kong’s foggy, and Barbadoes is too full of land-crabs to be pleasant. Bermuda’s too much like home an’ Colombo’s too much like abroad. South Africa ain’t so bad, but Natal’s hot. There isn’t what you’d call an ideal foreign station, because where beer’s cheap there ain’t other things, and where other things can be picked up for next to nothin’ beer’s a tanner a pint. It’s what Wattsey calls ‘the infernal lore of contemplation.’

“When you hear a chap ravin’ about a station, what a splendid place it is; what magnificent walks you can get, an’ how the climate makes you skip like a goat, you can bet a pair of socks to a tin hat he’s got a girl somewhere round the corner. It’s wonderful what effect a girl has on the climate. There was a chap of ours—Burkey his name was—wot got married to a chee-chee girl in Mauritius. As white as you an’ me, she was, an’ whiter, but her grandpa’s dial must have been in mournin’. He married her an’ left the regiment an’ went to live in some out-of-the-way corner of the island, near Curepipe it was. Three weeks before the regiment left they brought him into Port Louis on a stretcher. He was dosed with fever an’ as thin as a cigarette paper. I went to see him in hospital. He was nearly gone an’ was ravin’, but he recognised me.

“‘Splendid climate, Smithy,’ he sez, very weak. Then he added, ‘Grow any kind of vegetables. The sunsets are simply wonderful, an’ she’s been a good wife to me.’

“I went to his funeral.

“Nobby Clark was very sarcastic comin’ back.

“‘Bein’ in love,’ he sez bitterly, ‘blinds a chap so that he can’t tell a pertater-barrer from the Cafe Royal. An’ it upsets his taste an’ his smell an’ his sense generally. Drink’s bad enough, but not so bad as love. Love don’t make a chap want to fight, it only makes him want to lie down in a quiet place an’ snivel. It’s worse than that pipeshop orf the Queen’s Road, where you lay down an’ smoke dope till you see the New Cut fried fish shops an’ other lovely visions. It’s worse——’

“‘Close your face, Private Clark,’ sez the sergeant, who was marchin’ alongside, an’ Nobby took the hint.

“Soon after this we went to Wynberg, an’ that’s where Nobby started his Bachelors’ Club.

“We were in the canteen one night, a lot of us chaps— Spud Murphy, Little Green, Tiny White, Pug Wilson, and the rest of ’em, an’ Spud was talkin’ about the standoffishness of girls at the Cape.

“‘There’s a girl,’ sez Spud, ‘that lives on the main road. Her father’s a carpenter. Him an’ me got friendly owin’ to our havin’ both come from the same part of England—no, it ain't Whitechapel, Nobby—and asked me down to his house to tea.’

“Nobby sniffed.

“‘Asked me down to his house to tea,’ sez Spud, with relish, ‘an’ there was the girl.’

“‘She didn’t see you comin’, perhaps?’ sez Nobby.

“‘There was the girl,’ sez Spud, very impassive, ‘a-sittin’ down at the table with a nice white dress on, an’ a gold belt, an’ one of them wide, feathery hats, an’ kid gloves all up to the nines.’

“‘What about her boots?’ sez Nobby.

“‘I sez to her,’ sez Spud, takin’ no notice. ‘I sez, ‘ Good evenin’, miss; hope you’re quite well.’”

‘“As it leaves us all at present,’ sez Nobby.

“‘I hope you’re quite well, miss,’ I sez.

“‘Very well, thank you, how are you?’ she sez.

“‘Oh,’ I sez, ‘I’m so-so—’

“‘She could see that,’ sez Nobby.

“‘So I sez, “What a lovely evenin’ for a walk!”’

“‘Yes,’ she sez, ‘but it looks a bit threatenin’.’

“‘She was referrin’ to you,’ sez Nobby, impatient.

“Don’t keep us all night, Spud, monopolisin’ the conversation about what ‘she sez’ an’ what ‘I sez’—other people want to talk. Did she go out with you?”

“‘No, she didn’t!’ sez Spud, sulky, ‘she don’t walk out with soldiers.’

“‘There’s soldiers an’ there’s soldiers,’ sez Nobby, ‘but you can be sure of one thing, Spud. She ain’t in love with you. If she was she’d walk out with you.’

“‘Any fool knows that,’ sez Spud.

“‘Because,’ sez Nobby, ‘love is as blind as a bat under chloroform, an’ she’d have to be very blind, in addition to being naturally silly, before she took on a lop-sided woman-hater like you.’

“‘I ain’t a woman-hater!’ sez Spud, very indignant.

“‘Yes, you are,’ sez Nobby, calmly. ‘All chaps that girls won’t walk out with are woman-haters.’

‘‘There was something about this girl, Laura Haste was her name, that sort of fascinated our battalion. Her father got to be the most popular civilian in the camp owin’ to chaps wantin’ to be pleasant an’ friendly an’ be asked home to tea. She was as nice as nice could be, too, used to listen an’ say “Ah, yes!” an’ “Oh, no!” to all they had to say, an’ laugh an’ joke, but when the feller sez, ‘What a beautiful evenin’ for a walk,’ she used to get up an’ say, ‘Well, I won’t detain you, Mr. So-and-So,’ an’ that’s where his little plan came unglued.

“Me an’ Nobby kept a list of the chaps who went to the house to tea. Sergeant Mandy of ‘H’ went, Corporal Toms of ‘G,’ Yatesy went, an’ so did ‘Click’ Morris, an’ dozens of other chaps I could name. Me and Nobby used to sit on a gate near the house every Sunday night an’ watch ’em comin’ away. When they came up to us, Nobby used to say quite innocent, ‘Fine evenin’ for a walk, sergeant,’ or ‘corporal,’ as the case might be, and the chap would scowl and say somethin’ about goin’ to rain.

“An’ the rum thing about it was, as Nobby pointed out, that it didn’t matter what the weather was, wet or fine, blowin’ a south-easter, or so bloomin’ hot that walkin’ was a horrible an’ upsettin’ business, these chaps who went to tea all thought the same thing—that it was just the weather for a little walk, which proves that Nobby wasn’t a man of umgumption.

“It was after there were a dozen or so fellers wanderin’ about barracks lookin’ as if they didn’t care whether it snowed, that Nobby got his idea for a Bachelors’ Club. Everybody who wanted to remain a bachelor was invited to join an’ pay a penny a week.

“‘Wot’s that for?’ sez Spud, highly suspicious.

“‘Well, it’s like this,’ sez Nobby, slowly. ‘I’ve noticed that a lot of young chaps have been hangin’ round Miss Haste, tryin’ to kid her to go for a walk——’

“‘Not me,’ sez Spud, very loud. ‘I went there to oblige her father.’

“‘I went down to see the old man, too,’ sez Fatty Wilkes, an’ all the others took their oath that they'd never asked the girl to go out with ’em.

“‘As a matter of fact,’ sez Spud, carelessly, ‘I hardly noticed the girl—what’s she like?’

“‘It ain’t so much a question of what she’s like,’ sez Nobby, very careful, ‘as what she likes; an I’m thinkin’,’ sez Nobby, ‘that maybe one of these days she’ll take a sudden fancy for one of you chaps, an’ then the pennies we put by will make a sort of sweepstake for the lucky feller.’

“Nobby’s got a terrible oily tongue, an’ the way he persuaded them chaps to part with their pennies was worth goin’ a long way to see. Nobby called it a Bachelors’ Club, but, as a matter of fact, it was a sort of lucky dip, an’ the chap that got the girl got the prize.

“I wouldn’t come into it at first, because I didn’t think it was playin’ the game with the girl, an’ I told Nobby so, but he said it was a sort of tournament where a lot of gallant knights in armour chopped each other’s heads off just to show they loved some young lady sittin’ in the pit stalls.

“‘It’s chivalry, that’s what it is!’ sez Nobby, enthusiastic; ‘an’ it simply makes me thrill to see Sir Fatty de Green an’ Sir Tiny de White go ridin’ forth to capture the lovely Laura de Haste.’

“‘What about you?’ I sez.

“‘Me?’ sez Nobby, sadly. ‘I’m too old for that sort of thing, Smithy; I’m a hermit in a manner of speakin’. It cheers my old heart to collect——’

“‘You’re collectin’ their money, ain’t you?’ I sez.

“‘That’s what I was goin’ to say,’ sez Nobby. So I joined the club for Nobby’s benefit.

“The Bachelors’ Club was a big success from the start. Fellers who hadn’t tried their luck joined it because they thought there wasn’t a girl on earth that could say ‘no’ when they said ‘Let’s go for a walk.’ An’ chaps who had tried and didn’t get any further forward, they came in to try their luck again.

“Miss Laura Haste got to hear all about it. Some girls would have taken offence even after Nobby had explained she was doin’ the Queen of Beauty act; but Miss Laura Haste wasn't that sort of a girl. It took a lot of worship to upset her.

“‘I’m very much obliged to you, Mr. Clark,’ she sez, ‘for tellin’ me, an’ I think your friends are very silly—don’t you?’ an’ she gave him the goo-goo eye.

“‘I do,’ sez Nobby, very serious, an’ that seemed to annoy her. (We was down one Thursday afternoon lookin’ at the old man’s pigeons.)

“‘I’m glad you think so, Mr. Clark,’ she sez, sweetly. ‘I can’t imagine you being so silly,’ she sez.

“‘I can,’ sez Nobby, an’ she brightened up.

“‘I got sunstroke in India,’ sez Nobby, very solemn, ‘an’ sometimes I’m not quite all there.’

“She tossed up her head an’ said, hadn’t we better be goin’ into the garden to see the Blue Rocks an’ Dead Homers.

“She had another cut at Nobby before we left.

“‘Father,’ she sez, ‘why don’t you ask Mr. Smith an’ Mr. Clark to come to tea next Sunday?’ So the old man did.

“‘Thanks,’ sez Nobby, ‘I don’t mind if I do—so long as I can get away at six o’clock.’

“‘You’re always in such a hurry to get away, Mr. Clark,’ she sez, very tart.

“Nobby didn’t speak for a minute; he was standin’ thinkin’. Bimeby, he sez, ‘It’s a nice evenin’ for—’

“She jumped in eagerly.

“‘I’m sorry——’ she started.

“‘For this time of the year,’ sez Nobby, very solemn.

“From the look she gave Nobby, I gathered she was vexed.

“Some of the fellers saw us comin’ out of the house an’ one of them started chippin’ us.

“‘Hullo, Nobby,’ sez one, ‘this ain’t Sunday.’

“‘No,’ sez Nobby, ‘we’ve been havin’ a sort of matinay,’ he sez.

“I had a talk with old man Haste in the week.

“‘Ain’t you gettin’ tired of the military display in your house?’ I sez.

“He shook his head.

“‘It’d be the same thing if I was,’ he sez, very gloomy; ‘she’s her mother all over again—you didn’t know her mother, did you?’

“He shook his head again, an’ started sighin’.

“‘My daughter’s a very nice girl,’ he sez, in a melancholy tone of voice, ‘and I shall miss her when she’s married; but,’ he sez, ‘if I miss her too much I’ll move up near the barracks, where I can hear people shoutin’ words of command from mornin’ till night.’

“Nobby got hisself up very spruce for Sunday; borrered a tunic from one chap an’ nice squarpushir* boots from another, white gloves from Bill Mason, who borrered ’em from a young lady friend; an’ we started off.

* A Graeco-Indian (?) word for “captivating.”

“She said she was very glad to see us, an’ pretended she’d forgotten we was comin’, an’ we had a pleasant afternoon.

“When she was pourin’ out the tea, she sez to Nobby, ‘I’ve been hearing all sorts of things about you, Mr. Clark.’

“‘Oh!’ sez Nobby, very polite.

“‘I’ve heard you’re a great lady’s man,’ she sez, with a knowin’ smile.

“‘First time I’ve heard about it,’ sez Nobby, very interested. ‘Tell us some more.’

“‘They say you’ve been engaged twice,’ she sez.

“‘That’s right,’ sez Nobby, ‘once by a doctor, an’ once on a Pickford’s van: I used to take round the medicine for the doctor, an’ got chucked out for leavin’ the corn plaster at the house of a lady with the toothache.’

“‘I mean engaged to girls,’ she sez, huffily.

“Nobby shook his head.

“‘The only girl I was ever engaged to,’ he sez, ‘was a girl in a piece called ‘The Soldier’s Vengeance,’ that we played at Aldershot on behalf of the Soldiers’ Home. Little Tyke Allison was the girl, an’ looked it, but got a little too much to drink on the night of the play, an’ when I was a-rescuin’ her from a watery grave (the ship havin’ been wrecked), she stood upon one of the waves an’ wanted to fight me for the price of two drinks. It took six chaps to get her off the stage, an’ then we had to clout her with the moon (which happened to be lyin’ about),’ he sez.

“Up went her head.

“‘Iv’e been misinformed,’ she sez, very cold.

“‘You have,’ sez Nobby. ‘Anybody who knows me will tell you that I can’t stand girls at any price. I’d sooner walk from here to Simonstown on my lonely than I’d step across to the other side of the street with a feminine.’

“‘I think you’re very rude,’ she sez.

“‘I know I am,’ sez Nobby; ‘it’s me only protection.’

“All through tea time she was lookin’ at him curiously. When the meal was over, she sez, musin’ly:

“‘What a lovely evenin’.’

“‘Is it, miss?’ sez Nobby, lookin’ out of the winder.

“‘Just the evenin’ for——’ she sez, an’ stopped.

“‘For what, miss?’ sez Nobby, innocently.

“‘Nothin’!’ she snaps.

“Goin’ home that night Nobby was as pleased with hisself as a cat with two tails.

“‘That prize money’s as good as mine, Smithy,’ he sez. ‘We’ll call down at the house on Wednesday an’ I’ll walk her up to hear the band.’

“On Monday night he came round to see me—‘B’ Company were in two separate bungalows at Wynberg.

“‘Smithy,’ he sez, ‘I’ve been countin’ up the subscriptions, an’ the fellers think I ought to hand it over to somebody who’s quite impartial,’ he sez.

“‘Is that what they said?’

“‘They ain’t the exact words,’ sez Nobby, carelessly ‘They said somethin’ about wantin’ to be sure they got the money when it was due—anyhow, I don’t mind.’

“He told me he’d handed the funds—seven and twopence—over to old Drum-Corporal Browne. ‘It don’t matter much who has ’em for the present,’ he sez. ‘It’s as good as in my pocket. Let this be a lesson to you. Smithy,’ he sez, ‘never run after gels. Treat ’em proper an’ they’ll run after you.’ I didn’t see him the next night because I was busy, but on Wednesday he called for me, an’ we made our way down town. He was in a light-hearted mood an’ kept givin’ me good advice, which is the only thing Nobby ever gives away—except hisself occasionally.

“‘Haughtiness pays in the long run,’ he sez. ‘So does standoffishness; nobody never wants anythin’ till it’s impossible to get. That’s why dead people are always such good chaps, an’ everybody wishes they were alive again.’

“When we got to the house, there was the girl waitin’ as if she expected us; an’ I could see Nobby simply swellin’ with pride at hisself.

“We talked about the weather for a bit, and then Nobby asked after the pigeons, an’ when we’d been speakin’ for half an hour without saying anything particular she turns suddenly on Nobby.

“‘Doesn’t the band play to-night?’ she sez.

“‘I believe it does,’ sez Nobby.

“‘I should like to hear the band play,’ she sez, thoughtfully.

“‘Would you?’ sez Nobby.

“‘I should,’ she sez, ‘if there was anybody to take me.’

“‘What a pity there ain’t,’ sez Nobby.

“She sighed.

“‘Of course,’ she sez, ‘if I asked somebody to take me they couldn’t very well refuse, could they?’

“‘Not very well,’ sez Nobby—an’ I could see that inside of him he was dancing for joy—‘could they, Smithy?’

“‘No,’ I sez.

“She thought a bit.

“‘Isn’t there a ridiculous prize for the first soldier who is seen walkin’ with me?’ she sez, with that saucy toss of her head.

“‘There is,’ sez Nobby, quite overjoyed.

“She thought a bit more.

“‘Well,’ she sez, slowly, ‘will you take me up to hear the band?’

“‘Certainly, Miss!’ sez Nobby, smilin’ all over his face.

“There was a pause.

“‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ she sez, icily; ‘I was talking to Mr. Smith—will you, Mr. Smith?’

“‘Yes,’ I sez, like a shot.

“‘I like you,’ she sez, dreamily. ‘You don’t talk so much as your friend Nosey.’

“‘Nobby!’ sez Nobby, very fierce.

“‘An’ you’re so much smarter,’ she sez, nicely.

“‘Will you wait till I get my hat on?’”