_Interior of a dreary room in the War Office. A tired-looking young
officer, in mufti, sits at a table with great piles of papers, each
bundle tied with red tape and ticketed with labels of different
colours, on one side of it ready to his hand. Another pile of
papers, which he has already dealt with, is on the other side of the
table. He is an official and has many letters, the first two being
D. A. after his name. The gas has just been lighted. A clerk brings
in another fat bundle of papers._
_The Officer (patting the smaller pile on the table)._ These can go on,
Smithers. That question of sardine-openers must go back to the
commissariat, and the General commanding the Central District must be
authorised to deal on his own responsibility with the matter of the
fierce bull in the field where the recruits bathe. What have you got
there?
_The Clerk._ It is the correspondence, sir, relative to that false tooth
requisitioned for by the officer commanding the Rutlandshire Regiment
for the first cornet of the band. The Medical Department sent it back to
us this morning, and there is another letter in from the Colonel,
protesting against his regiment being forced to go route marching to an
imperfect musical accompaniment.
_The Officer (groaning)._ I thought we had got rid of that matter at
last by sending it to the doctors.
_The Clerk._ No, sir. The Surgeon-General has decided that "one tooth,
false, with gold attachment," cannot be considered a medical comfort.
_The Officer (taking a précis from the top of the papers)._ I suppose we
must go into the matter again. It began with the letter from the Colonel
to the General?
_The Clerk._ Yes, sir, here it is. The O. C. the Rutland Regiment has
the honour to report that the first cornet player in the band has lost
a tooth, and as the band has become inefficient in the playing of
marching music in consequence, he requests that a false tooth may be
supplied at Government expense.
_The Officer._ And the General, of course, replied in the usual formula
that he had no fund available for such purpose.
_The Clerk._ Yes, sir; but suggested that the regimental band fund might
be drawn on.
_The Officer._ Where is the Colonel's letter in reply. (It is handed to
him.) Ah, yes. Band fund is established, he writes, for purchase of
musical instruments and music, and not for repair of incomplete
bandsmen, and refuses to authorise expense, except under order from the
Commander-in-Chief.
_The Clerk._ The General sends this on to us with a remark as to the
Colonel's temper.
_The Officer._ And we pass it to the Quarter-Master-General's people,
suggesting that under certain circumstances a false tooth might be
considered a "necessary," and a free issue made.
_The Clerk._ A very long memo, on the subject, in reply, from the
Q.-M.-G., sir. He points out that though, under exceptional
circumstances, a pair of spectacles might be held to be a
sight-protector, a false tooth could not be held to be either a fork, a
spoon, a shaving-brush, a razor, or even an oil bottle.
_The Officer._ We wrote back suggesting that it might pass as a
"jag"--our little joke.
_The Clerk._ _Your_ little joke, sir. The Q.-M.-G.'s people didn't see
it.
_The Officer._ No? Then the correspondence goes on to the Ordnance
Department, with a suggestion that a false tooth might be considered an
arm or an accoutrement.
_The Clerk._ The Director-General replies, sir, that in the early days
of the British Army, when the Army Clothing Department's sole issue was
a supply of woad, a tooth, or indeed a nail, might have reasonably been
indented for as a weapon, but that, owing to the introduction and
perfection of fire-arms, such weapons are now obsolete and cannot be
issued.
_The Officer._ And now the Medical Service refuse to help us.
_The Clerk._ Yes, sir. They cannot bring the fixing of it under the
head of surgical operations, and the Surgeon-General points out very
justly, if I may be permitted to say so, sir, that a seal-pattern false
tooth could hardly be considered a "medical comfort."
_The Officer._ What are we to do? The Colonel of the regiment is
evidently furious.
_The Clerk._ We might send the correspondence to the Inspector of Iron
Structures. He may be able to do or suggest something.
_The Officer._ Very well; and will you send off this telegram to my wife
saying I have a long evening's work before me, and that I shall not be
able to get back to dinner to-night? (_Exit the Clerk._) Whenever will
they trust a General Commanding a District to spend for the public good
on his own responsibility a sum as large as a schoolboy's allowance, and
so take some of the unnecessary work off our shoulders?
[_He tackles wearily another file of papers._
* * * * *
[Illustration: UNDER COVER.
"So glad to see you, Mrs. Bamsby! And how is your dear husband? Where
_is_ the Colonel? I was only saying the other day, 'I wonder when I
shall see Colonel Bamsby!'"
_Mrs. Colonel B._ "You'll see him _now_, my dear if I just step aside,
or you walk round me."]
* * * * *
[Illustration: EASTER MANOEUVRES.
_Adjutant._ "Your orders are that when you are attacked, Captain
Slasher, you are to fall back slowly."
_Capt. Slasher._ "In which direction am I to retire, sir?"
_Adjutant._ "Well, the proper way, of course, would be over that hill,
but--_they intend to have lunch behind that farmhouse in the valley._"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: "SYNONYMOUS."
_Instructor._ "Now, I've explained the different 'sights,' you, Private
Dumpy, tell me what a fine 'sight' is. Describe it as well as you
can----"
_Private Dumpy._ "A fine sight, sir? A fine sight--(_pondering_)--'s a
magnificen' spe'tacle, sir!!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: VOLUNTEER MANOEUVRES
_Sergeant._ "Can I do anything for you, captain?"
_Captain._ "Why, thanky, sergeant. If you wouldn't mind giving my other
leg a hitch over!"]
* * * * *
[Illustration: MULTUM IN PARVO
_Inspecting Officer._ "How is it your khaki is so much too small?"
_Stout Yeoman._ "It do seem a bit skimpy, sur. But tailor says as how
I'm bound to grow a 'eap smaller on hactive service, an' 'e's allowin'
for shrinkage."
* * * * *