"YOU'RE IN LUCK, MY BOY. THEY'VE IMPORTED A GENUINE MEXICAN BANDIT FOR YOUR
KNIFE-FIGHT SCENE IN 'BAD HAT, THE HALF-BREED.'"]

* * * * *

MY FIRE.

"Seventy-five per cent. of the world's accidents arise from gross
carelessness!" I thundered at Suzanne, who for the fifteenth time in five
years of matrimony had left her umbrella in the 'bus. Being on a month's
leave, and afraid of losing by neglect the orderly-room touch, I thought
fit to practise on her the arts of admonition. Admonishing, I wagged at her
the match with which I was in the act of lighting my pipe. Wagging the
match, I did not notice the live head drop off on to the khaki slacks which
I had donned that afternoon to grace a visit to the War Office. Only when I
traced Suzanne's petrified stare to its target did I discover that a
ventilation hole had been created in a vital part of His Majesty's uniform.

With great presence of mind I put out the conflagration before venturing on
an encounter with Suzanne's eye.

"You were discussing accidents," she observed sweetly. "What percentage of
them did you say was due to gross carelessness?"

I did not bandy words. There was no escaping the fact that they were, as
Suzanne reminded me, my sole surviving pair of khaki slacks, and that I
should certainly have to get a new pair before returning to the Depôt; for
these were obviously beyond wear or repair.

"Well, anyhow I've three weeks to get them in," I said as lightly as I