He must have had at least eight years' grounding in that, as well
as two or three years in his Volunteer battalion. He can sleep where he
pleases. He can't leave town-limits without reporting himself, of course,
but he can get leave if he wants it. He's on duty two days in the week as
a rule, and he's liable to be invited out for garrison duty down the
Mediterranean, but his benefit societies will insure him against that.
I'll tell you about that later. If it's a hard winter and trade's slack,
a lot of the bachelors are taken into the I. G. barracks (while the I. G.
is out on the heef) for theoretical instruction. Oh, I assure you the
Line hasn't half a bad time of it."
"Amazing!" I murmured. "And what about the others?"
"The Volunteers? Observe the beauty of our system. We're a free people.
We get up and slay the man who says we aren't. But as a little detail we
never mention, if we don't volunteer in some corps or another--as
combatants if we're fit, as non-combatants, if we ain't--till we're
thirty-five we don't vote, and we don't get poor-relief, and the women
don't love us."
"Oh, that's the compulsion of it?" said I.
Bayley inclined his head gravely. "That, Sir, is the compulsion. We voted
the legal part of it ourselves in a fit of panic, and we have not yet
rescinded our resolution. The women attend to the unofficial penalties.
But being free British citizens----"
"_And_ snobs," put in Pigeon.
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