glory, under proper charge to the head-quarters
of the regiment quartered at Manchester.
A few years before the enlistment of Maurice
Savage, a tedious, toilsome and comfortless
march would have formed the introduction to
his military duties, with amongst other evils,
a facility for desertion, in the event of the hot
fit having passed away; but the railway obviated
all these inconveniences, and instead of
being twelve days on the road, the journey
was now performed in half as many hours;
and the recruits arrived at their destination
perfectly fresh, and quite of opinion that a
soldier's life must be a pleasant one, since at
the very outset they were allowed to ride in
carriages!

This idea was slightly modified the next
day, when they were formed into a squad, and
the process of "setting-up" began. The first
glance at a batch of recruits from an agricultural
district, is not particularly re-assuring;
to knead and mould the clods into shape,
appears almost a hopeless undertaking, at
least to the uninitiated; but Corporal
Rattler was an experienced hand, and had
dealt so much in stubborn materials, that
the word "difficulty" found no place in his
vocabulary. The men were there to be drilled
and made soldiers of, and it was not his fault
if he did not turn them out perfect. Corporal
Battler was a fine, soldierlike fellow, standing
six-feet-one in his stockings, straight as an
arrow, and flexible as an eel; he had "the
gift of the gab" to a surprising extent, was
"smart" in all his movements, and knew his
duty thoroughly. There was only one drawback
to his many qualifications, but that was
a fatal one; he was given to drink. But for
this propensity, he might long before have
attained the rank of Sergeant-Major of the
regiment, with a very fair prospest of a commission;
but the canteen within the barrack-yard,
and the public-houses outside, neutralised all
his advantages, and got him so frequently
into disgrace that advancement was out of the
question, and the rank of Corporal, which he
was allowed to hold, was solely for the
purpose of giving him authority with the recruits
he was employed to train. The kindest
remonstrances, as well as measures of no slight
severity, had been resorted to by the adjutant
and the commanding officer, and no man was
more penitent for his faults than Corporal
Rattler, nor more prodigal of promises for
future good-behaviour. But, unfortunately,
the "invisible spirit" of drink overcame all,
and instead of what he might have been—a
model to imitate—he became an example to
shun. No permanent command, involving a
separate responsibility, was, therefore, ever
entrusted to him; but his services were
too valuable as a drill to admit of his
being displaced in that capacity; and a
constant supervision being at hand, no harm
was likely to accrue from giving him such
employment.

Corporal Rattler was a master of slang, and
had a happy manner of applying his jokes,
which were a perfect comedy to every body
but the individuals, the immediate object of
them; and whether he was busy with his
recruits, or taking a hand at "Fives" when
parade was over, there was sure to be a large
audience of men off duty,—and now and then
an officer, a little apart from the rest,—to
enjoy the fun. Maurice Savage was a frequent
theme for Corporal Rattler's wit; his name
lent itself to all sorts of allusions—none of
them complimentary—and his personal
appearance gave them additional point. The
outline of the Corporal's tuition might run thus:

"Now then, Mister Savage,—we're not in
the woods to-day! There's broad day-light
upon us;—let's see if we can't teach you a
little civi-li-sation! Up with your head,—
nobody's a-goin' to take your scalp; straighten
them knees, you shall go to prayers by-and-
by, when your limbs is supple enough! don't
clench your fistes as if you'd got tommyhawks
in 'em, Mister Savage! Shut that mouth!
we didn't come on parade to catch flies;—
we're not cannyballs, Mister Savage, we 're
not! Now then, hide that there belly!
bellies ain't of no use in the army, besides
being contrairy to the articles of war. I shall
have to keep you here till tattoo, though I
suppose you're tattooed already, Mister
Savage, &c., &c," with more of the same kind
to an indefinite extent, indifferent enough to
read, but sufficiently amusing to hear, when
it served as a running commentary on the
awkwardness of the young soldier.

By dint, however, of much drilling, this
awkwardness gradually wore off, though the
ordeal was severe for a youth, who was
naturally disposed to prefer idleness to work, and
who had entered the army for the purpose of
"taking it easy." At daybreak the "Réveille"
was beat—probably by Addison's spectral
drummer—for unless he who did it, handled
the drumsticks in his sleep, it was difficult to
imagine that the regularity of the warning
was not supernatural. At this sound there
was an immediate stir in the barrack-room,
and woe betide any lazy recruit who laid
down his head for another "forty winks" to
dream of the paternal pigsty, which haply he
might never see again; the water for the
morning ablutions would have been applied
in so liberal a manner as at once to convince
the dreamer that "cold pig" was a reality.
To dress as quickly, but at the same time as
carefully as possible, was the first thought,
but before the toilet was quite finished each
man made his bed after the military fashion,
rolling up his paillasse, folding the bed-clothes
separately and laying them on the top, with
a prescribed neatness, which soon became
habit; and then the iron bedstead itself was
pulled out from the wall and turned over,
giving room for the men to move, and allowing
the air to circulate freely. Until practice
had made him perfect, Maurice Savage found
it no easy matter to be quite ready to fall in,