"S.F.C.": On the Peninsula, the little chaps from the hills of India used to call us the White Ghurkas. Here in Palestine, the Gyppo drivers of a certain unit call themselves the Black Anzacs. I have heard what the Turks call us, but there is such a smell of brimstone about the words that I absolutely refuse to repeat them.

* * *

"First Major": Billjim, just arrived from "Down Under," met a cobber in the unit he was attached to, and was invited to share the latter's sleeping and living apartments, in the absence on leave of the other original occupant. When the visitor to Cairo returned, he found that his portion of the bivvy was occupied, and his mate being away, he aroused the stranger none too gently from his slumber. "That's my blanky roost," he said. "You're bed, be damned," replied the other, with a yawn, "where the tell am I goin' to sleep, then?" "Dunno", replied the old hand, "sleep on your blanky disc, for all I care."

* * *

"S.F.C.": In Palestine, to save the roads as much as possible, huge painted boards are planted in the middle of thoroughfares in the several villages, indicating which side ot the "street" is to be used by motors, and on which side horses are to be ridden or driven. The other day, a Biiljim was lining a donkey along that side of the road set apart for motors, when he was espied by the inevitable military policeman, "Hey, cant you read?" yelled the M.P. 'Yes, do you want you're bumps read?" replied the Billjim. Then spoke the M.P., pointing to that notice: "Can't you see what the board says?" "Well, what about it?" said Biiljim; 'I'm ah right here, the board doesn't say anything about donkeys, and if my donk hasn't any right here, what the 'ell are you doing on the road? Gee up, donk."

* * *

"Carton": There was the Dickens to pay in a mess but at.....Camp one dinner time, when the boys, who were green from Australia, saw myriads of tinv, white baomerang-shaped objects in tne stew. "It's over the blinking fence," cried one chap, and he voiced the general opinion. The Orderly officer appealed, and inspected the stew. He also was a new chum, and sent for the Cook. Then, a corporal, who had seen some service, hopped out and explained. The white objects were only the innards of a Gyp io vegetable marrow. The officer was reluctantly-convinced, but the boys pecked at that stew as if they had just finished a five course dinner.

"Baltasrgi": During a recent argument with "About", a lanky Queenslander missed his bearings one dark night, and also lost his rifle. After wandering about for a time, he lay down and waited for daylight. First thing in Ihe morning, he came upon a Turkish outpost, consisting of seven men. The surprise was mutual, and the quickest thinker won the day. The Bananalander made a rush for the nearest Turk, and grabbing his rifle, covered the others with it. It was an astonished patrol that came upon seven weary-looking Turks, with a deadbeat Billjim in. the rear, all trudging towards our camp. When asked how he had managed it, he replied, that it was just goor luck. The prisoners gave our interpreter the full strength of it, and another military decoration came the way of Bananaland.

* * *

"Tibbin": The Gyppo is a grateful cuss. Here is a letter that was received by a non com, in charge of a Mess, from one of the waiters whose screw had been raised: "I take the liberty in penning these few lines to express my feelings, and heart thanks for the kind sentiments and courteous treatment you always confer on me It is truly a high humanity and philanthropy that stir your good heart to do such favourable transactions to your subordinates. I find myself unable to repay you the kindness shown to me by giving me the present rise of pay, so I have to leave it to Heaven to grant you the best and excellent reward, and to prepare you to a higher degree to which you are entitled, keep you safe and take you back home in prosperous and delightful situation. Your most obedient servant,......."

* * *

"Bill Adams,": We put in some rough nights on our recent stunt to Amman, and hardly bad a dry night during the whole time, subsequent to crossing the Jordan. What with clothes wet through, blankets soaking, and mud and slush everywhere, a decent doss was out of the question. The usual thing was a seat on a stone, the neddy's reins slung over the arm, and your head on knees. Later on, we discovered a kindly scrub, which grows in abundance On the hills eastward of the Dead Sea. It is not unlike gorse, and bears a profusion of thorny spikes, like stag's antlers, A "possy" made of these is, the nearest thing to a wire mattress bed.

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"Huia Elna": It was a few days before the demolition stunt on May 23rd. last year. Things were quiet in the lines, and most of the boys were playing poker or having a snooze. "Taube comin'" remarked the lineguard, as he slipped the feed-bags off. "Jacko" had paid us some attention a few days previously, so we were all interested. When he appeared to be right overhead, we could hear the familiar hiss of a falling bomb. A few minutes earlier, a limber, covered with a tarpaulin, had arrived, and had been left at the end of the lines. Bill dived underneath this, and after the Taube had gone, the Q.M. noticed him coming out. "What thehell a e you do in' under that limber?" he asked. "Oh, just takin' cover", replird Bill. "Well, keep away from the damned thing, its loaded with guncotton".

* * *

"Gelantipy": This is how Long Bill lost his job. He was practicing at his honourable profession as officers' cook. The weather was red hot, and we had strict orders not to smoke in the horse lines. Bill took a stroll down the lines one afternoon, puffing at an old black pipe. He was promptly ordered back to the hash-house by the O.C., and was hauled up to the Orderly Room next morning, and fined 2/6. That evening he made a pie for the officers' dinner, and after putting the top crust on, he cut off a streak of dough, con verted itinto the figures 2/6, and stuck it on top of the pie, which was then sent into the table. Bill was back in the lines with us next day.

* * *

"Baltaggi": My mate Jones is a, peculiar chap. When the news name of a second defeat to Con cription in Australian, he said nothing. When we stood in the precincts of the Holy City, and I was trying to conjure up visions of the past, he merely chewed the and of a cigarette and hummed a popular air. When we stood before the Mount of Temp-station, I marvelled at the building of a monastery half way up the mountain, overlooking a deep gorge. I thought of the courage, endurance and perseverance of the people who had built such a magnificent temple in such surroundings, and felt inclined to doff my hat to their memory. Jones didn't. He murmured something about "silly cows"; but some garden dust got in his throat, and the rest of his wisdom was lost to the world. I thought something must be worrying him, and under a pressure of extra rum, he confided in me. "Jim", he muttered, "do you think war-time economy is responsible for the present fishion in short skirts, or are these garments merely trying to avoid contact with the boots that complete the costume?"

* * *

"Twenty-two": Had been out on the desert, far from the refining influence of a maiden's company, for almost an uncountable number of months when the great event happened. This may be rather a peculiar way of putting it, but then, it is rather a peculiar thing itself. Was on my way to Cairo, on pass, of course, and the train had pulled up at a station, where the engine driver and fireman went for a drink. I happened to look out of the carriage window, and my surprise can be imagined when I saw the finest girl that ever a Billjim clapped eyes on. She was apparently English, and was walking arm in arm with a Tommy. My oath! he was making a welter of it. I began to wonder whether they would be coming on in the train. Fates were kind, for they got aboard the rattler, and in the 2nd. class compartment, too. I carefully tugged the old moustache, and got ready to carry on with the good work. Exchanged a couple of sentences, and was thinking of all the nice things I ought to have known for the occasion, when I was assailed by a thought, and offered "the fair charmer a cigarette. She took it, with the remark, that issue fags were up to putty. There was quite a procession of Tommies promenading up and down the carriage to have a look at the bint, and they were all working overtime, straightering up tunics and brushing boots with their handkerchiefs. It was a Scottie, sitting opposite me, who whispeed that a well-known Army concert party were shifting camp, so to speak. If ever the Tommy who impersonates the girl in that party wants an unsolicited testimonial, well, here it is.

"Baltaggi: Happened to be within earshot of a Board, held some time ago, whose business was to discover and report on the losses in equipment of the various Billjims who presented themselves for inspection. One of the members of this Board, whose job was to do the talking, was a wiry looking bushman, whose avocation in bygone years lay in assisting "Strawberry" and "Darkie" to "Gee up, there." The tone of the proceedings to date was respectable enough, and even young curates could have been in attendance without blushing. "Where have all your numerals gone to?" said this bushman officer. "Well, Sir, this 'ere last stunt was so 'ot, and in one corner, where there was no shelter, they were shot off by a machine gun." "You're a.....liar," roared the officer from Outback of Beyond, and it was some time before the Court regaiped its equilibrium sufficiently to carry on.

* * *

"Boori": One scorching day, with a hundred knot khamseen working up, a weary-looking "Jacko" presented himself to our outpost patrol. On appearances, he seemed to be bored stiff, the one show of surprise being at the speed with which we overhauled his outfit for secret papers, etc. The result proclaimed him a barber of the first water, short only of the coloured: pole. Here's the cosmopolitan inventory, all being stamped with pre-war dates: Two hair clippers, made in Paris, wooden comb, branded Constantinople, looking glass from Switzerland, razors from Germany, soap, branded England, and a shaving brush, quite original until it was dipped in water, when it turned out to be camel hair. To test the clippers, two jumbuck barbers fastened on to acouple of Palestine merino kings. The crowd lent a hand, but on the mechanism starting it was like dressing a magnune camel. When the last bit of scalp was dismembered' from the machinery, the victims luridly describe eb the barber's life, his ancestors, and probable future. Our version was, that his late clients, had sent him on this barberous mission, to square up old scores against us.

* * *

"Cedric": Some Camel Corps fellows invented a new game during the big stunt, when tobacco was as scarce as generosity is among Quarter— masters. I call it a game, but it was played mighty seriously. Six chaps sat in a circle, and one produced a cigarette, took a couple of draws, and passed it on to his neighbour. And so it went round the circle till only a tiny butt remained. These butts were carefully preserved, and from, them other cigarettes were made. Not a shred of tobacco was wasted. I joined a smoking circle myself, and it was Good O.

* * *

"Bill Bowyang": I know something about Camels—my oath! I do. Travelled with the hump around the Liby-ian Desert, the Baheria Oasis, Sinai and Palestine. Camels are useful bits of furniture, and fill the camps with loving phrases, and the hospitals with half-chewed hands and arms. There are two sets of men in the A.I.F. here abouts—those who are in the hospitals, and those who are not in the Camel Corps. I have put up with a lot of things since I joined the A.I.F, bit the camel is the last straw. I don't mind a few acres of sand in my tea— accidents will! happen—and I don't mind-having a neat hole drilled through me by "Jacko's" machine guns; but to jump off the summit of the Pyramid of Cheops is sheer-cowardice compared to attend ng to a camel. Mind you, the camel is all right in its place, but it is never there; it is always somewhere; else. It has four feet or pads, and these are supposed to rest on the ground, but are more often found embedded in a Billjim's fifth rib. The camel is a beast which does everything the horse leaves undone. There are men who will tell you that they like camels, and I reckon that they ought to be put in the Dingbat Home at Abbassia. There's something wrong with their brains, or perhaps they fell on their heads whea they were young. The only way to put a halter on a camel is to tell him funny yarns, and get. him in a good humor. Then, when he is looking peaceful, quickly slip the halter over his nose, when he will raise his left off foot; and the next thing that you will remember is the orderly in the Dressing Station saying, "Drink this, old; chap."