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"Why can't they let a bloke sleep of a mornin'! they don't want yer ter be comfortable, that's what it is. I bet yer me bottom dollar the C.O. don't get up at this time! 'e don't get up afore ten or eleven, you bet yer life. 'E 'as eggs an' bacon for 'is bloody breakfast wi' a batman ter wait on 'im an' put plenty o' bloody sugar in 'is bleed'n' tea!
He pulled away a small sandbag that blocked a loophole, and, holding his rifle by the butt at arm-length, poked the muzzle out slowly. A moment later two reports rang out one from in front and one behind. 'I got 'im, said the corporal three minutes later. 'One bloke was looking with a periscope and I saw a little cap an' one eye come over the parapet.
Some of them were watching the screen, but most of them seemed to be watching Stanton, although they looked away as soon as they saw his eyes on them. Trying to see what kind of a bloke this touted superman is, Stanton thought. Well, I can't say I blame 'em. He brought his attention back to the screen. So this was the Nipe's hideaway.
Now a sharper lash of wind cut down and they huddled closer. It was an edging, shifting, pushing throng. There was no anger, no pleading, no threatening words. It was all sullen endurance, unlightened by either wit or good fellowship. A carriage went jingling by with some reclining figure in it. One of the men nearest the door saw it. "Look at the bloke ridin'." "He ain't so cold."
And, reminded apparently by the word "what" of the word "Wattle," he repeated the latter some sixteen times with a rising inflection. "Wattle, Wattle, Wattle," he concluded. "Right-ho. Push on." But the bearded bloke had shot his bolt. He stood there, licked at last; and, watching him closely, I could see that he was now at the crossroads.
"An' you'd 'ave bin joined by a Dutch dodger and settled down on a Vaal sheep-farm, if the order 'adn't come 'ummin' along the wire from 'Eadquarters that said, 'Jane 'Arris, you're to 'ave this bloke, and no other. Till Death do you part. Everlasting Amen!" There was so strong a flavour of Church about the final sentence that Mrs. Keyse could not keep admiration out of her eyes.
I've shifted mother and an aunt and two married sisters out of worse fixes than yours. I'll be round after dark, and bring a push to lend a hand. They're decent coves." "But I can't expect your friend to shift me for nothing. I told you I haven't got a " "Mrs Aspinall, I ain't that sort of a bloke, neither is my chum, and neither is the other fellows 'relse they wouldn't be friends of mine.
" and make him swallow himself. Correct. The programme still holds good." "But, Tuppy, I keep assuring you, as a competent eyewitness, that nobody snitched Angela from you during that Cannes trip." "No. But they did after she got back." "What?" "Don't keep saying, 'What? You heard." "But she hasn't seen anybody since she got back." "Oh, no? How about that newt bloke?" "Gussie?" "Precisely.
It was not till after a regular battle royal that that young gentleman could be brought to submit to be "larned" by any one but his own special "bloke," and even when he did yield, under threats of actual expulsion from the school, he made such a point of comparing everything I did and said with the far superior manner in which Smith did and said it, that for a time it was rather uphill work.
At first we wondered who the personality so irreverently described as "Tight-Whiskers" was, but subsequently we were enlightened. He was referring to Von Tirpitz, "Th' bloke wot looks arter th' Germin Navy!"
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