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I was standing up at the time, and it rather took me by surprise. It just cleared the parados. In fact, it kicked a lot of gravel into the back of my neck." "Most people get it in the neck here, sooner or later," remarked Captain Blaikie sententiously. "Personally, I don't much mind being killed, but I do bar being buried alive. That is why I dislike Minnie so." He rose, and stretched himself.
Captain Blaikie did not take his hat off, as he had promised. Instead, he stood suddenly to attention, and saluted in return, keeping his hand uplifted until the slim, childish figure had disappeared round the corner of a traverse. It was the Prince of Wales.
Answer comes there none. The offending battery has prudently effaced itself. "Cease fire!" says the major, "and register!" Then he turns to Captain Blaikie. "That'll settle them for a bit," he observes. "By the way, had any more trouble with Minnie?" "We had Hades from her yesterday," replies Blaikie, in answer to this extremely personal question.
"There is the trench! The other lads are waiting for you. Come along! Charge!" The men needed no further bidding. They came on with a ragged cheer and assuredly would have arrived, but for one thing. Suddenly they faltered, and stopped dead. Captain Blaikie turned to his faithful subaltern panting behind him. "We are done in, Bobby," he said. "Look! Wire!" He was right.
"If this thing goes with a click, as it ought to do," said Wagstaffe, "it will be the biggest thing that ever happened bigger even than Charlie Chaplin." "Yes if!" assented the cautious Blaikie. "It's a tremendous opportunity for our section of 'K ," continued Wagstaffe. "We shall have a chance of making history over this, old man."
But this evening, although two or three are up in the blue, buzzing inquisitively over the enemy's lines, their attendant escort of white shrapnel puffs is entirely lacking. Far away behind the German lines a house is burning fiercely. "The Hun is a bit piano to-night," observes Captain Blaikie, attacking his tea. "The Hun has been rather firmly handled this afternoon," replies Captain Wagstaffe.
After citing the foregoing examples, Blaikie directs his attention to man, and makes the following interesting remarks: "We might expect from the foregoing account of telegony amongst animals that whenever a black woman had a child to a white man, and then married a black man, her subsequent children would not be entirely black. Dr.
We shall win all right. Well, I am off to the Mess. See you later, everybody!" "Meanwhile," inquired Wagstaffe, as the party settled down again, "what is brewing here! I haven't seen the adjutant yet." "You'll see him soon enough," replied Blaikie grimly. He glanced over his shoulder towards the four civilian card-players.
Next behind him came the reformed revolutionary, M'Slattery. Straightway the enemy observed the oncoming reinforcements, and shrapnel began to fly. The men pressed on, at a steady double now. M'Ostrich was the first to go down. Game to the last, he waved encouragement to his mates with a failing arm as they passed over his body. "Come along, boys!" cried Captain Blaikie, suddenly eloquent.
Captain Blaikie, remembering that generals have little time for study of such works as the new drill-book, and that when General Freeman says "section" he probably means "platoon," orders Numbers Two and Four to fall back. This manoeuvre is safely accomplished. "Now, let me see them close on the road." Captain Blaikie blows a whistle, and slaps himself on the top of the head.
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