United States or Falkland Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The other growled an acceptance, whereupon the nurse smiled an ironic benediction and moved away. "Where did you get it?" asked Penworthy. Doggie gave the information and, in his turn, made the polite counter-inquiry. Penworthy's bit of shrapnel, which had broken a rib or two, had been acquired just north of Albert. When he left, he said, we were putting it over in great quantities.
"If you'll agree that he wasn't grousing, Penworthy, I'm sure Trevor will apologize for calling you an idiot." And into the nurse's eyes crept the queer smile of the woman learned in the ways of children. "Didn't I say he wasn't grousing? It was only his ignorance?" Doggie responded. "I meant no offence, mate, in what I said."
Chaps like you have all the luck; but as soon as I get out of this, I'll be passed fit for active service ... and not so much of your larfing at not being dead. See?" "All right, mate," said Doggie. "Good night." Penworthy made no immediate reply; but presently he broke out: "What d'you mean by talking like that? I'd hate being dead."
The surgeon fished it up and the clean wound healed rapidly. The gloomy Penworthy's prognostication had not come true. Doggie would not stump about at ease on a wooden leg; but in all probability would soon find himself back in the firing line a prospect which brought great cheer to Penworthy. Also to Doggie.
Translate Jeanne into a princess, the dirty waterproof package into a golden casket, himself into a knight disguised as a squire of low degree, and what more could you want for a first-class fairy-tale? The idea struck Doggie at the moment of "lights out," and he laughed aloud. "It doesn't take much to amuse some people," growled his neighbour, Penworthy.
"Sign of a happy disposition," said Doggie. "What've you got to be happy about?" "I was thinking how alive we are, and how dead you and I might be," said Doggie. "Well, I don't think it funny thinking how one might be dead," replied Penworthy. "It gives me the creeps. It's all very well for you. You'll stump around for the rest of your life like a gentleman on a wooden leg.
His other room-mates, including his neighbour Penworthy, were so far convalescent as to be up and away, presumably by the life-giving sea, whose rhythmic murmur he could hear. For the first time since he awoke to find himself bandaged up in a strange dug-out, and surrounded by strange faces, did the chaos of his ideas resolve itself into anything like definite memories.
Word Of The Day