"'Tis true, old messmate. I'm under the influence of my new batman,
one 'Enery 'Enson. After a lifetime in the Marines he's now spending
his declining days in the Army, and he's terribly infectious. I found
myself saying, 'Ay, ay, Sir,' when the C.O. spoke to me."

"I think I've noticed your 'Enery," said Percival. "Isn't he about
ten feet high by six broad, tattooed all over like a circulating art
gallery, and addicted to chewing quids and swabbing out your hut in
his bare feet?"

"My cabin, you mean. And says he's going ashore when he takes a trip
down the village. That's 'Enery."

"Incidentally he's a confirmed bath-lifter," interjected Binnie.
"Yesterday morning my batman prepared me a tub, and while he was
fetching me along your hulking pirate boosted out my sponge and towels
and installed your lily-white self in it. You were so busy wallowing
in my hot water that you never heard my protests on the door. You
really must curb his buccaneering instincts, old Tirps."

"I accept no responsibility for his methods," said Frederick
haughtily; "I merely profit by them. In any case I didn't _take_ your
hot water; I simply used it. You should live near the bath-house and
get up promptly when you are called, as I do."

"Well, I don't mind the British Navy ruling the waves," grumbled
Binnie, "but I object to its extending its sphere of influence over my
bath-water."

"It jolly well doesn't extend over mine," said Percival with pride.