Down at Vectis, of course, we never troubled
our heads about them. But when my Father spoke as he
did, I kissed his hand, and waited for orders. We British-
born Romans know what is due to our parents.'
'If I kissed my Father's hand, he'd laugh,' said Dan.
'Customs change; but if you do not obey your Father,
the Gods remember it. You may be quite sure of that.
'After our talk, seeing I was in earnest, the Pater sent
me over to Clausentum to learn my foot-drill in a barrack
full of foreign Auxiliaries - as unwashed and unshaved a
mob of mixed barbarians as ever scrubbed a breastplate.
It was your stick in their stomachs and your shield in their
faces to push them into any sort of formation. When I had
learned my work the Instructor gave me a handful - and
they were a handful! - of Gauls and Iberians to polish up
till they were sent to their stations up-country. I did my
best, and one night a villa in the suburbs caught fire, and I
had my handful out and at work before any of the other
troops. I noticed a quiet-looking man on the lawn, leaning
on a stick. He watched us passing buckets from the
pond, and at last he said to me: "Who are you?"
"'A probationer, waiting for a command," I answered.
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