There was a fellow in the second class—a
demagogue my father thinks—who declared
that Prince Albert himself should not do such
a thing. The man preached and stormed out
of the window, and shook his cotton umbrella
at Sir Henry, and shouted to the guard and
the station-master, and insisted upon going
on. And there sat Sir Henry on his horse,
with his moustaches all so dandified, and as
fine a looking fellow as ever you saw—six
feet high, and a soldier every inch of him.
He seemed neither to hear nor see the man
shaking his umbrella; and in we all got. He
did not carry his point about his horses,
however. The train could not wait for them. But
what a fellow to train our bumpkins! If his
major and his captains are like him, we shall
have the oddest regiment on the common that
ever was seen.

This morning early, we three gentlemen
rode round the neighbourhood to see what
the militia material is like. We spoke
to almost every man we met, and Sir Henry
talked capitally to them! I can't describe
it; but they seemed to understand him,
which you know is a rare thing with
strangers, and even with us. They all
understand that everybody that has a mind to be
in it, is to meet on Elwich common to-
morrow morning at nine, whatever the
weather may be. When one man pulled his
forelock, and supposed the gentleman would
not stand out in the rain, Sir Henry showed
his white teeth under his moustache in a
smile, and told the man that old soldiers like
himself, who had served in snow and ice one
season, and in a place as hot as an oven the
next, did not think much of the rain on
Elwich Common. He should be there all
day for three weeks, if it rained thunderclaps;
and there his men would be also. He
marked out Ned Barry at once, as we said
beforehand that he would. He said he was
a man for the Guards—six feet four, and no
less. My father beckoned to Ned; and we
thought that when Sir Henry saw his round,
red, good-tempered face and how he flung his
feet before him when he walked, as if he
wanted to kick them off, we should hear no
more of Ned being fit for a Guardsman.
However, we were mistaken. Sir Henry
told us that he was sure the man's muscles
were like whipcord, and that he had the
soldier in him. He only wanted to be taught
to stand and walk, he said. Yet, was there ever
such a big baby as Ned? Sir Henry went on to
say that that was, in his opinion, the case with
our people generally. He knew that some
of his brother officers, whom we should meet
to-morrow were of a different opinion;
believing that nothing could make us a military
nation. He did not suppose the last
test of national peril would ever be applied;
but, if it should be, he believed the English
would turn out to be quite as military as any
other nation, under the same expenditure of
trouble and money. I was so pleased to hear
this, that I pushed on my pony, and came up
beside Sir Henry and told him I was sure I
could be a soldier, for one. Unluckily, I
got a little too close, and my pony made a
plunge, and splashed Sir Henry: and O
dear! the look he gave me! He swerved a
little out of my way, and glanced down upon
me as from a hill top, without saying a word.
It was just like the way we step aside from a
snail. It made my blood tingle, I can tell you.
There's the dinner bell; and Sir Henry
leaves us before night. I will keep this open,
to tell you to-morrow how the first drill
goes off.

January 6.

As for how the first day went off one
hardly knows what to say. It was not the
least like what I thought; and yet we have
had some fun too. There's my father sound
asleep after dinner, and I am rather drowsy
myself. Mamma says it shows what the
fatigue must have been. And there was the
cold too; and I never was more famished in
my life. It was very good fun, after all. We
got our breakfast and were off before it was
quite daylight. It was a bitter morning.
The officers were on the common, all ready
when we left our horses at the inn. It was
something like market day at Elwich, only
that the farmers were not there; but their
labourers instead. In they came, by all the
streets, shambling along, some in thick
hobnailed shoes, and some with their feet tied
up for want of shoes. Some had their smock-
frocks clean and tidy; but many had old
coats full of holes; and several came in their
waistcoats, without any coat at all. I
overheard Captain Helsham say to the Major that
it was absurd to set nine hundred such
fellows before them, and expect officers to
make soldiers of such clodpoles. However,
they must do their duty, with whatever
disgust. So, to work they went.

There were six sergeants; and enough
they had to do with that helpless crowd,
who only pulled their forelocks, and could
not understand anybody who spoke quickly
and sharply, nor answer a question directly,
nor hold up their heads, nor stand in a
line, nor do anything they were bid. Our
"short sixes" did not cut quite such a
figure as that, luckily. I was glad to see
our parson there; and I could not help asking
him whether he really would undertake
to stop an invasion with this sort of army.
Of course, he laid his hand on his breast, and
said there was inspiration there, and so on.
Stuff and nonsense!

Well, I stayed to see how they went to
work before I collected our junior corps.
The people were divided among the
sergeants, and set in a line, and made to
hold up their heads and straighten their
arms by their sides, and practise the goose
step. And mightily like geese some of them
looked. It was the oddest sight to see Ned
Barry—the tallest and biggest man on the