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He would have mounted, mounted, mounted, and been a Captain long before now, if he had not been a pratique." "I know that; so would many of you." "Ah, mon Caporal; but that is just what Rac does not choose. In the books his page beats every man's, except yours.
The Spahi was in fault. 'Crache-au-nez-d'la-Mort' was there before him; and was preferred by the girl; and women should be allowed something to do with choosing their lovers, that I think, though it is true they often take the worst man. They quarreled; the Spahi drew first; and then, pouf et passe! quick as thought, Rac lunged through him. He has always a most beautiful stroke.
Wedgwood might perhaps found an argument on this in support of our old friend Rac and his relation to huskiness; but it seems to us one of those trifles, the turned leaf, or broken twig, that put one on the right trail. We accept Mr. Wedgwood's derivative signification of refuse, worthless, contemptible, and ask if all these terms do not apply equally well to the chaff of the threshing-floor?
Wedgwood lets off this coughing, hawking, spitting, and otherwise unpleasant old patriarch Rac so easily in the case of the foundling Crag, he has by no means done with him.
"Not in your squadron, mon Caporal," said Picpon quickly. "It is not much, either. Only the bon zig Rac." "Rake? What has he been doing?" There was infinite anxiety and vexation in his voice.
Le Capitaine Argentier was passing, and made a fuss; else nothing would have been done. They have put him under arrest; but I heard them say they would let him free to-night because we should march at dawn." "I will go and see him at once." "Wait, mon Caporal; I have something to tell you," said Picpon quickly. "The zig has a motive in what he does. Rac wanted to get the prison.
As he walked away he grinned within. "Gee! I talked to that omelet Berg' rac like I'd known it all my life!" Other s'prises for Istra's party he sought. Let's see; suppose it really were her birthday, wouldn't she like to have a letter from some important guy? he queried of himself. He'd write her a make-b'lieve letter from a duke. Which he did.
Ask that man, Rac, how they treat their soldiers!" and M. Georges hurried away to this mules and his duties; thinking with loving regret of the delicious Chinese plunder of which the dogs of Albion had deprived him.
I owe him more than I'll ever pay, and I'll kill the Kebir himself afore I'll insult him that way. So say little to him about the Spahi, mon Caporal. He loves you well, does your Rac." "Well, indeed! Good God! what nobility!" Picpon glanced at him; then, with the tact of his nation, glided away and busied himself teaching Flick-Flack to shoulder and present arms, the weapon being a long stick.
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