14 
LAND & WATER 
September 7, 191C 
Stoner, the ^-outh with the brown eyes and the t;iiik'- 
less look was the next to pass a remark on Bill's con- 
dition. 
■' \\'hat has happened to you, matey ? You look like 
a dead man." 
" I'm orl right." said Bill, but there was a note of 
concern in liis voice. " 1 ad the best dinner I ever ad a 
moment ago. " 
" Has it disagreed with you ? " asked Stoner. " \\hat 
kind of dinner was it ? " 
" Taters and honions fried in vaseline," was Bill's 
replv. 
"Vaseline!" Stoner repeated. "Vaseline! Vase- 
line ? '■ 
" Wot's MTong wiv vaseline ? " Bill enquired. 
" What's wrong with it, man," said Stoner. " Every- 
thing's wrong with it. It's poison, pure poison. No 
wonder you're looking white." 
Bill cast an imploring look on Stoner. He was now 
e\-idently frightened. 
I do feel somethin' wrong wiv me, inside," he said. 
" I'll see the M.O. this evening. 
* <ti « * :<: 
Bill had a temperature that evening, whether due to 
fright or tlie ill-effects of potatoes fried in vaseline it 
was impossible to say. The doctor sent him back to the 
hospital in Nouex-Jes- Mines. Wrapped in blankets, 
Bill went to sleep on the Hoor, and about one o'clock in 
the morning he woke up and looked around him. A 
candle stuck on the cold ground burned timidly, and big 
black shadows lurked in the corners of the apartment. 
Opposite Bill an R..-\.M.C. orderly sat on a biscuit box 
dozing, the unlighted stump of a cigarette between his 
hngers. 
Near Bill another patient lay asleep, his mouth wide 
open and his knees hunched up so that they formed a 
little hill that dominated the cold, clammy floor of the 
cellar. 
Bill looked up at the roof where the Hghst played in 
little ghostly ripples. .'\.s he watched a spider slipped out 
of a hole directly overhead and dropped sl<Avly down 
towards his face. In the half light the spider looked an 
enormous size and its legs spread out as if enc"".eavouring 
to clutch something. Fascinated, Bill \\-atchtd it draw 
nearer, nearer, until it almost touched his face. 
" Git out, ye lobster ! " 
He raised his hand as he spoke and aimed a blow at the 
insect and missed. The spider clambered up again and 
disappeared. 
" Blast the bloomin' tiling ! " he muttered, cmd turned 
on his side. 
" Oh, blimey ! . . . Good momin'." 
A large toad was sitting on the corner of his blanket, 
a mere hand's breadth away, and looking at him with a 
pair of glistening eyes. For a moment the man and 
the toad looked fixedly at one another, then the toad 
hopped away and disappeared round the corner of the bed. 
■' Well, blimey ! " said Bill, cuddling up in the» clothes 
and trying to sleep. He was unsuccessful, for his mind 
followed the toad. 
" Where 'as it gone ? " he muttered. " Sp-Jders as 
big as lobsters, and toads as big as hclephant j. This 
'ere place is 'aunted. Now where 'as that 'ere vermin 
gone ? " 
He turned round on his side and again his gaze fell 
on the toad. The thing had ascended the hijl jormed 
by the knees of Bill's mate, and there on the emimmce it 
sat, its eyes fixed on the open mouth of the sl'iepet . 
" Blimey ! it's goin' ter jump in," said BiM. "\ Raise 
the foresight a little, you bounder, and oh ! . . . Ten 
to one you miss it." 
Moodily contemplative, the toad sat silent, its big 
shining eyes fixed on the cavern in front. 
" Jump, you beggar ! " yeUed Bill, shouting at the 
top of his voice.' " One good 'op an' vou'll serve a twill. " 
He fell into a paroxysm of mirth ; the R.A.yijC. 
orderly awoke and rubbed his eyes, hfted the cigaxetJe 
end which had fallen to the floor, and came across to BiM. 
" What's amusin' you, chummy I " he asked. 
" The spider and the toad," said Bill. " A big Ic ^bster 
of a spider and then the toad. It's tryin' to jumf > into 
the man's mouth. Look there ! Ten to one it missc !s." 
" That's all right," said the orderly with a bland -smile 
of understanding. " You must lie down quietly and 
try and have a little slee^p." 
" But the toad," Bill remonstrated. " It's just goin' 
ter jump." 
" 1 know. I know," said the orderly. " I see it myself, 
but try and compose yourself, chununy." 
" But man, it's real." said Bill, .sitting up. " Look 
yourself and you'll see it. Don't think I'm off my 
napper." 
" I don't think anything of the sort," said the orderly, 
smiling. " I often see things 'ere myself. You lie down 
again and you'll be as right as rain in the morning." 
He put his fingers on Bill's pulse, held tliem there for a 
moment, then pressed the boy gently back into the 
blankets. 
" I tell you there's a toad," said Bill, struggling to get 
up again. " Look at that man lying there and see the 
toad on 'is knees. It's going to 'op into the bloke's 
mouth in a minute." 
To humour the patient, the orderly looked as he was 
directed, and sure enough there was a toad, a real one, 
not a phantom, perched on the knees of the sleeping 
patient 
" So there is," said the orderly. " I thought you were 
dehrious, matey. Well, we'll put the thing out,'"' he said, 
and shoved it off the blanket on to the floor. 
" Ye'rc not a sport." said Bill, and his voice was charged 
with contempt. " Why didn't yer let it 'op. I was 
bettin' on it. Now my bloomin' toad 'as gone. Bet 
yer it'll not come in again, either," said Bill sadly. 
" I'll bet you it doesn't." said the orderly, but in a 
different tone. 
Bill Teake returned to his regiment three days later, 
a healthy and wiser man. He has cultivated a hearty 
dislike for French dogs ; he has, through much practise, 
made perfect a new manner of killing looted chickens ; 
he never now takes part in a conversation wherein vase- 
line is mentioned, but the sight of a frog always brings • 
memories of toads to Bill's mind, and all conversation is 
cut dead until Bill narrates for the hundredth time the 
tale of a toad in a cellar at Nouex-les-Mines. 
It IS a remarkable coincidence that the two Rritisli airmen 
who ha\-e bnjuglit down Zepi)elins should both ha\'e been 
b()rn in India. The late Lieutenant Warneford was connected 
with Kuch Behar ; Lieutenant Robinson was born in Coorg 
and spent several years of his boyhood there. Coorg is a 
pecuhar httle province in South India at the edge of the 
Western Ghats, with an administration of its own. Polli- 
betta, Mr. Robinson's home, is the centre of a prosperous 
coffee district. Wlien it was first opened up by British 
planters, it was pestiferous and the death-roll veiy heavy, 
but it is now a healthy region, at an altitude of 4,000 feet, 
and the climate delightful. A bov brought up amid such 
surroundings develops great keenness in shikar, but a Zeppelin 
at night is big game few have the luck to bag. 
A little hook which gives a new insight into the. work of 
British airmen, has just been published. It is entitled In 
the Royal Xaral A if Service (Chatto and' Windus, 3s. 6d. net.). 
It consists of the war lettei-s of the late Harold Rosherto his 
tamily. Mr. Rosher, who did nianv brave feats and was a 
most gallant airman, was killed while testing a machine. 
These letters are written in a simple and direct stvle and give 
a very vivid description of the life with its constant risks and 
Its thrilling adventures in mid-air. 
.Mr. Richard Harding Davis's last book. With the French. 
(Duckworth and Co., 3s. fad. net.) is a cheery record of travels 
up to the firing line in France and at Salonika, and it proves 
that all Americans are not neutral. One gathers that Air. Davis 
was not proud of the attitude of his country toward the war, 
and that, having seen the things of which the common enemy 
IS capable, he held views with regard to that enemy which 
would have done credit to any soldier of the Alhes. 
The Report on Austro-Himgarian Alrocities in Serbia, 
(Simpkm Marshall and Co., 5s. net) is probablv the most 
gruesome document of the war. Professor Reiss, who 
compiled the report, lias done so in a preci.se and statistical 
fashion that adds weight to his terrible indictment, and, if 
(jne requires a touch of realism to add to the documents, 
there are appended some horrible photographs of the victims 
of the Austrian version of " Kultur." The book is not one 
for general circulation, but it is a record of proved cruelties 
that ought to be kept in mind against the day of settlement 
