Then
tempers began to wear away, and men fell a-brooding over insults
real or imaginary, for they had nothing else to think of. The tone
of the repartees changed, and instead of saying light-heartedly: "I'll
knock your silly face in," men grew laboriously p0lite and hinted
that the cantonments were not big enough for themselves and their
enemy, and that there would he more space for one of the two in
another place.
It may have been the Devil who arranged the thing, but the fact of
the case is that Losson had for a long time been worrying Simmons
in an aimless way. It gave him occupation. The two had their cots
side by side, and would sometimes spend a long afternoon
swearing at each other; but Simmons was afraid of Losson and
dared not challenge him to a fight. He thought over the words in
the hot still nights, and half the hate he felt toward Losson be
vented on the wretched punkahcoolie.
Losson bought a parrot in the bazar, and put it into a little cage,
and lowered the cage into the cool darkness of a well, and sat on
the well-curb, shouting bad language down to the parrot. He taught
it to say: "Simmons, ye so-oor," which means swine, and several
other things entirely unfit for publication. He was a big gross man,
and he shook like a jelly when the parrot had the sentence
correctly. Simmons, however, shook with rage, for all the room
were laughing at him--the parrot was such a disreputable puff of
green feathers and it looked so human when it chattered.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137