They'll get used to it in time.

Ho, ho!" "Fall in!" called Mr Jarman.
And painfully conscious not only that a few of the volunteers were hanging about to look on, but that the school porter was at the moment conducting a party of visitors through the building, we obeyed listlessly and dismally.

Tempest taking his place at the end of the line.
"Are these some of the volunteers ?" we heard one of the lady spectators ask.
"No, madam.

This is an extra drill for breach of rules," replied the official.
"Number from the right," cried Mr Jarman.
We numbered.
"Answer to your names," said the discipline master, producing a paper.
We could not help noticing that Tempest's name was mixed in along with ours, and that no difference was made on account of his age or status.
We were then formed into double rank, and fours, and open order, and put through a hideous series of extension exercises, irksome enough at any time, but under present circumstances specially so.

I heard Dicky Brown beside me groan as he stood leaning over with his left knee bent, his right leg stretched out behind, and his two arms doubled up at his side.
"I wonder they don't all kick," he whispered.
"Not easy like this," said I.
"How Tempest must be enjoying it!" Dick murmured.
"Poor beggar! it's a nasty dose for him." But if Mr Jarman counted on any protest or resistance from his senior victim, he was disappointed.