Tatterdemalion

competitive turn. The queerest thing seen during the War was the subject of our tongues, and it was not till after several tit-bits had bee

d plunge his pick in, scratch, and shovel, and hack at the roots as if for dear life-he was making the hole too close to the hedge, of course-and all the time carrying on like that. I thought he must be digging his own grave at least. Suddenly he put his pick down, and there just under the hedge I saw a dead brown dog, lying on its side, all limp. I never see a dead animal myself, you know, without a bit of a choke; they're so soft, and lissom; the peace, and the pity-a sort of look

r, digging, t

-beard, with an intellectual f

t,' he said, looki

Horrid job that!-fa

hether to shut me up and

bly. I never condemned a creature to

aid, for I wasn't going to let on

in the yard discussing her, she knew there was something wrong-she kept looking at my face. I very nearly went back on it; only, having got him out on purpose, I was ashamed to. We brought her down here, and on the way she found the remains of a rabbit about a week old-that was one of her accomplishments-bringing me the most fearful offal. She brought it up wagging her tail-as much as to say: 'See-I am some use!' The Vet tied her up here and took his gun; she wagged her tail a

ow creatures in the air and cheering while they roast, working day and night to inflict every imaginable kind of horror on other men exactly like themselves-these same chaps are

took th

9