John looked very gloomy.
"_Pourquoi triste_, John?" said I, knowing the language.
"Well, it's like this," said John, "the time has come when you and I
must look for a job."
"That's all right," said I cheerfully. "We'll go and see the Advisory
Committee. They'll put us up to a job in civil life. They're sitting
there bubbling over with advice. Employers in England are simply
falling over one another to find positions for brave young officers
who--"
"Yes, I don't think," remarked John very sceptically. "I went to see
the Advisory Committee two days ago. Perhaps I was rather unfortunate
in arriving at the same time as the English mail; anyhow I came away
with the following information and convictions:--
(1) That the easiest job in civil life is to sit on an Advisory
Committee.
(2) That one is always either too old or too young for the Civil
Services.
(3) That I was a devil of a good fellow and I'd won the War (they
patted me on the back and told me so).
(4) That I was to fill up my A.Z.15 and trust in my stars (not the
things on my sleeve)."
"Well, what about it?" I continued.
"Personally," said John, "I think an advertisement in _The Daily
Telegraph_ is the correct thing. How's this?--
"'Anybody know of a decent war? Two young subs in France, Soldiers of
Fortune (so-called), would like to get in touch with anyone thinking
of starting a first-class war. Send full particulars and rough
strength of enemy to "Warriors," c/o _The Daily Telegraph_.'"