'
Revere stayed in the tent for an hour. When he came out his eyes
were redder than ever.
Private Conklin sat on a turned-down bucket, and listened to a not
unfamiliar tune. Private Conklin was a convalescent and should
have been tenderly treated.
'Ho!' said Private Conklin. 'There's another bloomin' orf'cer da ed.'
The bucket shot from under him, and his eyes filled with a
smithyful of sparks. A tall man in a blue-gray bedgown was
regarding him with deep disfavour.
'You ought to take shame for yourself, Conky! Orf'cer? Bloomin'
orf'cer? I'll learn you to misname the likes of 'im. Hangel! Bloomin'
Hangel! That's wot'e is!'
And the Hospital Orderly was so satisfied with the justice of the
punishment that he did not even order Private Dormer back to his
cot.
In the Matter of a Private
Hurrah! hurrah! a soldier's life for me! Shout, boys, shout! for it
makes you jolly and free.
--The Ramrod Corps.
PEOPLE who have seen, say that one of the quaintest spectacles of
human frailty is an outbreak of hysterics in a girls' school. It starts
without warning, generally on a hot afternoon among the
elder pupils. A girl giggles till the giggle gets beyond control.
Then she throws up her head, and cries, "Honk, honk, honk," like a
wild goose, and tears mix with the laughter. If the n,istres. be wise
she will rap out something severc at this point O check matters.
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