Wet wickets this season, boys, seldom a rummer set,
But they anyhow seem to have suited Young Zummerset!
* * * * *
THE REAL GRIEVANCE OFFICE.
(_BEFORE_ MR. COMMISSIONER PUNCH.)
_A Medical Officer (with martial manner, and well set up)
introduced._
_The Commissioner_. Well, Sir--may I call you Colonel?--what can I do
for you?
_Medical Officer_ (_smiling_). I am afraid, Sir, you may give me no
military rank, as it would be contrary to the Regulations.
_The Com._ Have I not the pleasure of addressing a soldier?
[Illustration]
_Med. Off._ Well, yes, Sir, I suppose I may claim that title. I
am an Army Surgeon, and in that capacity have not only to risk my
life equally with my comrades in the field, but have to brave the
additional danger inseparable from the fever-wards of a hospital. As
a matter of fact many of my colleagues have earned the V.C., and not
a few taken command when their aid was needed. I hope you have not
forgotten ANTHONY HOME WYLIE and MACKINNON.
_The Com._ Certainly not--they are gallant fellows. Well, I am sorry
to see you here, Doctor--what can I do for you?
_Med. Off._ I would ask your good services, Sir, to get us greater
recognition in the Army. Pray understand we do not wish to be called
Captain, Major, or Colonel, merely to "peacock" before civilians,
but because, without official recognition of our true status, we are
treated as inferior beings by the youngest subaltern in any battalion
to which we may be attached.
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