They talked of the state of the Army: we are moving.

True, and at the last Review, the 'march past' was performed before a mounted generalissimo profoundly asleep, head on breast.

Our English military 'moving' may now be likened to Somnolency on Horseback.

'Oh, come, no rancour,' said the colonel; 'you know he's a kind old boy at heart; nowhere a more affectionate man alive!' 'So the sycophants are sure of posts!' 'Come, I say! He's devoted to the Service.' 'Invalid him, and he shall have a good epitaph.' 'He's not so responsible as the taxpayer.' 'There you touch home.

Mother Goose can't imagine the need for defence until a hand's at her feathers.' 'What about her shrieks now and then ?' 'Indigestion of a surfeit ?' They were in a laughing wrangle when two acquaintances of the colonel's came near.