Whatever job it is, even if you wanted to work as a knacker's assistant, you'd have to show them some testimonials. Ah, that little spree

of yours is going to be an expensive business ! And what's your wife and children going to live on while you're doing time?"

The man sobbed :

"My poor children, my poor wife !"

Then the wayward penitent stood up and started talking about his children. There were five of them ; the eldest was twelve and he was a boy scout. He drank nothing but water and he ought to have been an example to his father who for the first time in his life had been guilty of such shocking conduct.

"A boy scout!" exclaimed Schweik. "I like hearing about boy scouts. Once when I was in camp for my annual training with the 91st the local farmers started chivvying some boy scouts in the woods where there was regular swarms of them. They collared three. When they were tying up the smallest of the lot, he kicked up such a hullabaloo, bellowing and snivelling so much that we hardened veterans couldn't stand the sight of it and we made ourselves scarce. While these three scouts was being tied up, they managed to bite eight of the farmers. Afterward in their den in the woods they found piles and piles of gnawed bones of poultry and game, a whole lot of cherry stones, bushels of unripe apple cores and other titbits like that."

But the boy scout's unhappy father was not to be comforted.

"What have I done?" he wailed. "My reputation's ruined."

"That it is," said Schweik, with his native frankness, "after what's happened you're bound to have a ruined reputation for the rest of your life, because when your friends read about it in the papers, they'll add to it. That's the way it always happens, but don't you take it to heart. There's at least ten times more people with ruined and damaged reputations than those with a clean record. That's a mere fleabite."

Heavy steps could be heard in the passage, the key grated in the lock, the door opened and the police officer called Schweik.

"Excuse me," said Schweik chivalrously, "I've only been here since twelve o'clock, but this gentleman's been here since six o'clock this morning. And I'm not in any hurry."

There was no reply to this, but the police officer's powerful hand dragged Schweik into the corridor, and conveyed him upstairs in silence to the first floor.

In the second room a commissary of police was sitting at a table. He was a stout gentleman of good-natured appearance. He said to Schweik :

"So you're Schweik, are you? And how did you get here?"

"As easy as winking," replied Schweik. "I was brought here by a police officer because I objected to them chucking me out of the lunatic asylum without any lunch. What do they take me for, I'd like to know?"

"I'll tell you what, Schweik," said the commissary affably. "There's no reason why we should be cross with you here. Wouldn't it be better if we sent you to the police headquarters?"

"You're the master of the situation, as they say," said Schweik contentedly. "From here to the police headquarters'd be quite a nice little evening stroll."

"I'm glad to find that we see eye to eye in this," said the commissary cheerfully. "You see how much better it is to talk things over, eh, Schweik?"

"It's always a great pleasure to me to have a little confab with anyone," replied Schweik. "I'll never forget your kindness to me, your worship, I promise you."

With a deferential bow and accompanied by the police officer he went down to the guard room, and within a quarter of an hour Schweik could have been seen in the street under the escort of an-other police officer who was carrying under his arm a fat book inscribed in German : Arrestantenbuch.

At the corner of Spâlenâ Street Schweik and his escort met with a crowd of people who were jostling round a placard.

"That's the Emperor's proclamation to say that war's been declared," said the policeman to Schweik.

"I saw it coming," said Schweik, "but in the asylum they don't know anything about it yet, although they ought to have had it straight from the horse's mouth, as you might say."

"How d'you mean?" asked the policeman.

"Because they've got a lot of army officers locked up there," explained Schweik, and when they reached a fresh crowd jostling in front of the proclamation, Schweik shouted:

"Long live Franz Josef ! We'll win this war."

Somebody from the enthusiastic crowd banged his hat over

his ears and so, amid a regular concourse of people, the good soldier Schweik once more entered the portals of the police headquarters.

"We're absolutely bound to win this war. Take my word for it, gentlemen," and with these few remarks Schweik took his leave of the crowd which had been accompanying him.

And somewhere from the far distances of history there descended upon Europe the realization that the morrow can shatter the plans of to-day.

6.

Schweik Home Again After Having Broken the Vicious Circle.

Through the premises of the police headquarters was wafted the spirit of authority which had been ascertaining how far the people's enthusiasm for the war actually went. With the exception of a few persons who did not disavow the fact that they were sons of the nation which was destined to bleed on behalf of interests entirely alien to it, the police headquarters harboured a magnificent collection of bureaucratic beasts of prey, the scope of whose minds did not extend beyond the jail and the gallows with which they could protect the existence of the warped laws.

During this process they treated their victims with a spiteful affability, weighing each word beforehand.

"I'm extremely sorry," said one of these beasts of prey with black and yellow stripes, when Schweik was brought before him, "that you've fallen into our hands again. We thought you'd turn over a new leaf, but we were mistaken."

Schweik mutely assented with a nod of the head and displayed so innocent a demeanour that the black-yellow beast of prey gazed dubiously at him and said with emphasis :

"Take that idiotic expression off your face."

But he immediately switched over to a courteous tone and continued :

"You may be quite certain that we very much dislike keeping you in custody and I can assure you that in my opinion your guilt is not so very great, because in view of your weak intellect there can be no doubt that you have been led astray. Tell me, Mr. Schweik, who was it induced you to indulge in such silly tricks?"

Schweik coughed and said :

"Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't know what silly tricks you mean."

"Well, now, Mr. Schweik," he said in an artificially paternal tone, "isn't it a foolish trick to cause a crowd to collect, as the police officer who brought you here says you did, in front of the royal proclamation of war posted up at the street corner, and to incite the crowd by shouting : 'Long live Franz Josef.