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`Oh, that's right enough, but what about marchin' in public?' said Hogan, not foreseeing that three years later he should die in the Burmese sunlight outside Minhla Fort. `Afraid the uniform won't suit your creamy complexion?' M`Turk asked with a villanious sneer. `Shut up, Turkey. You aren't goin' up for the Army.' `No, but I'm goin' to send a substitute. Hi! Morrell an' Wake! You two fags by the armrack, you've got to volunteer.' Blushing deeply -- they had been too shy to apply before -- the youngsters sidled towards the Sergeant. `But I don't want the little chaps -- not at first,' said the Sergeant disgustedly. `I want -- I'd like some of the Old Brigade -- the defaulters -- to stiffen 'em a bit.' `Don't be ungrateful, Sergeant. They're nearly as big as you get 'em in the Army now.' M`Turk read the papers of those years and could be trusted for general information, which he used as he used his `tweaker.' Yet he did not know that Wake minor would be a bimbashi of the Egyptian Army ere his thirtieth year. Hogan, Swayne, Stalky, Perowne, and Ansell were deep in consultation by the vaulting-horse, Stalky as usual laying down the law. The Sergeant watched them uneasily, knowing that many waited on their lead. `Foxy don't like my recruits,' said M`Turk, in a pained tone, to Beetle. `You get him some.' Nothing loath, Beetle pinioned two more fags -- each no taller than a carbine. `Here you are, Foxy. Here's food for powder. Strike for your hearths an' homes, you young brutes -- an' be jolly quick about it.' `Still he isn't happy,' said M`Turk. `For the way we have with our Army Here Beetle joined in. They had found the poem in an old volume of Punch, and it seemed to cover the
situation: `An' both of 'em led to adversity, `You be quiet, young gentlemen. If you can't 'elp -- don't 'inder.' Foxy's eye was still on the council by the horse. Carter, White, and Tyrrell, all boys of influence, had joined it. The rest fingered the rifles irresolutely. `Half a shake,' cried Stalky. `Can't we turn out those rotters before we get to work?' `Certainly,' said Foxy. `Any one wishful to join will stay 'ere. Those who do not so intend will go out, quietly closin' the door be'ind 'em.' Half a dozen of the earnest-minded rushed at them, and they had just time to escape into the corridor. `Well, why don;t you join?' Beetle asked, resettling his collar. `Why didn't you?' `What's the good? We aren't goin' up for the Army. Besides, I know the drill -- all except the manual, of course. 'Wonder what they're doin' inside?' |
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