ponent parts of the back or elevating sight are
the flanges, flap, slider, spring, and bed. Name
them, Mr. Skull.

Skull (yawning). The principal part of the
back sight is the spring-bed.

Capt. S. (rising in disgust). No more at
present!

(Exeunt all but Strongbow, who sits up half
the night studying the theory of trajectories.)

THE PRESENTATION 0F OUR BUGLE.

We had attended the Wimbledon meeting
and the Chiselhurst sham fight, and had covered
ourselves with glory at both, but there was
nothing to look forward to, and the perpetual
platoon exercise and theoretical musketry
instruction, began to grow monotonous. The
attendance of men was a trifle falling off, and
I had suggested to Captain Strongbow that he
should hurry on the preparation of our butts, and
get us out to "judging distances" and firing with
ball cartridge as speedily as possible, when we
received intimation of an approaching event which
brought back all those who were beginning
to lapse. When our numbers increased and we
grew too large for the Mechanics' Institute or
Toddler's-yard, we looked about for some suitable
drill-ground; but there was no place to be
had and we were in despair, when the Principal
of Dulciss's Grimgribber College, hearing of our
extremity, came forward in the kindest manner
and placed the grounds of that establishment at
our disposal. Dulciss's College is not, as you
may probably imagine, a scholastic institution
for young gentlemen; it is a retreat, a
refuge, a harbour for elderly gentlemen who
have been broken and buffeted by the
tempests of the world: a roadstead where they
may ride safely at anchor for the remainder
of their lives, comfortably housed and tended,
and provided with a small income to supply
themselves with necessaries. The only qualifications
for candidates are, that they snail have
been born in Grimgribber, shall have exceeded
sixty years of age, and shall be without pecuniary
resources. It is not difficult to find many
who can fulfil these requirements, and the College
is always full; there, slowly pacing up and
down the shady cloisters, or sitting sunning
themselves on the wormeaten old benches
outside the porch, are the old fellows constantly to
be seen, wearing their old black cloaks and
queer shovel hats as decreed by the founder,
old Sir Thomas Dulciss, who died two hundred
years ago. Attached to their prettily terraced
garden, is a fine open meadow of several
acres, but the old collegians rarely stroll so
far, and when, under the permission of the
principal, we held our first drill therein, none
of them even came out to look at us, or took
the trouble to inquire what we were doing.
But a little later, on a fine spring day, they
came down in a knot and stood close by watching
our movements, and as the words of command
rang out, two or three of them, evidently
old soldiers, straightened their poor bent
backs and cocked their shovel hats with the
ghost of a military swagger, and one, a very old
man, hobbled back to the college, whence he
returned with his black cloak thrown very much
back and a Waterloo medal gleaming on his
brave old breast; when drill was over, we gave
him a cheer that brought the fire into his dim
eyes and the flush into his withered checks.
Then Mrs. Principal, a benevolent old lady, and
the two Miss Principals, very dashing girls,
got in the habit of coming to watch us, and
the Miss Principals brought their friends, and
the friends brought their cavaliers, so that at
last we used to exhibit before quite a bevy of
spectators. One day, Sir Gregory Dulciss, the
present representative of the great family, was
at the college on business, and hearing of
this, we formed on the terrace and saluted
the great man, presenting arms to him as
he came out. Sir Gregory was greatly touched at
this, called it audibly a "dayvlish gratifying
mark of 'tention," made us several bows
modelled on those of his great friend the late King
George the Fourth, and hoped to meet us again.
And a few days afterwards it was officially
announced that Lady Dulciss intended presenting
us with a silver bugle.

This it was that caused the new excitement;
this it was that brought up the few laggards and
caused the many who had hitherto been indefatigable
o show even greater attention. It was
determined that we should have a great day; it
was understood that a select company would
come over from The Radishes, Sir Gregory's
house; that the neighbourhood generally would
attend; and there was to be a tent with a cold
collation for the corps, while the officers were
invited to a champagne luncheon at the Principal's.
Such furbishing up of arms and accoutrements,
such worrying of tailors and armourers,
such private drill among the men, and such
minute inquiries among the officers as to the
exact meaning of " recover swords"!

The day arrived, and the hour. Headed by
our band (their first appearance in public—
rather nervous and shaky, a trifle agitated in
the trombone, and a thought Punch and Judyish
about the big drum, but still playing capitally),
we marched through the village and
into the field. The profane vulgar were not
allowed to come inside, but they clustered
thickly round the gates and swarmed about
the palings, like bees. Very good and searching
were the remarks of the boys. "Walk up! walk
up! just agoin' to begin!" shouts one, as the
band passed. "Hooray for the Workus Corpse,"
says another, in allusion to our neat grey uniform.
"Here's the pauper lunatics with their
throats cut," says a third, hinting at the red
stripe on our collars. "Hallo, Bill," says a
boy perched on the gate, "here's your huncle!"
"I see him," responds Bill, a grimy-faced cynical
young blacksmith- "I see him, but I never
takes no notice on him when he's with his
Wolunteers! And we passed on into the field. The
white tent glimmered in the sun, and the ground
was covered with company. The Dulciss people
had brought some great acquaintances with them,