No kilted Jock goes with more swagger down Princes Street than Johnny Gurkha down the bazaar of Darrapore, particularly in the evening, when he doffs khaki for the mufti suit of his clanthe spotless white shorts, coat of black sateen, little cocked cap and brightly bordered stockingsa mode de rigueur that would be robbed of its final cachet without the black umbrella, tucked well up under the arm.

When delicately suited I move again amid the mufti swarms, Since trophies from the Front may be disputed, I'll flaunt the only spoils that I have looted, My little library of Army forms.