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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Government Farm!" called Major Mallaby-Kelby, with an informative gesture. Government Farm was a datum point that batteries had mercilessly pasted two days before. "Government Farm!" repeated Major Bullivant, who walked behind Mallaby-Kelby. "Government Farm!" echoed Major Veasey, with out-stretched arm; and I, in my turn, passed the word to Beale. Young Beale was in exuberant spirits.
Also, two Royal Academicians a saturnine Academician, swaddled in a voluminous cloak; and a benevolent Academician, with a slovenly umbrella, and a perpetual smile. Also, the doctor and his wife, who admired the massive frame of "Columbus," but said not a word about the picture itself. Also, Mr. Bullivant, the sculptor, and Mr.
Indeed A Battery's forward section, handled first by Dumble and then by Stenson, had boldly harassed the enemy machine-gunners from under 500 yards' range. Dumble had already been recommended for the Military Cross, and Major Bullivant described Stenson's exploits while visiting Brigade Headquarters during the afternoon.
Or maybe it's a staff billet. You'll be a blighted brass-hat, coming it heavy over the hard-working regimental officer. And to think of the language you've wasted on brass-hats in your time! I sat and thought for a bit, for the name 'Bullivant' carried me back eighteen months to the hot summer before the war. I had not seen the man since, though I had read about him in the papers.
But where there has never been the slightest encouragement, you are really wrong to act in this way. A long engagement, where everything remains doubtful for years, is so wretched that oh, if I were a man, I would never try to persuade a girl into that! I think it wrong and cruel. The stroke was effectual. Bullivant averted his face, naturally woebegone, and sat for some minutes without speaking.
Bid the soldiers forward, and give the dotard the same choice that you give all his countrymen to stand aside or be trampled on." "Nay, nay! Let us show respect to the good grandsire," said Bullivant, laughing. "See you not he is some old round-headed dignitary who hath lain asleep these thirty years and knows nothing of the change of times?
Half an hour slipped by. We spoke on the telephone to D Battery, who were on high ground. No, they could see no wave of German infantry approaching; but Bullivant, B Battery's major, who for the time being was commanding C Battery's rear uncaptured guns as well as his own rear and forward 18-pounders, said Huns were coming up en masse from the south-west.
"Liberal, comprehensive, progressive, profound. Gardener, don't fidget!" "The true philosophy of art the true philosophy of art, my lady," added Mr. Gimble, the picture-dealer. "Crude?" said Mr. Hemlock, the critic, appealing confidentially to Mr. Bullivant, the sculptor. "What?" inquired that gentleman. "Blyth's principles of criticism," answered Mr. Hemlock. "Oh, yes! extremely so," said Mr.
The colonel came back after showing Major Bullivant his new battery position, and told me to ride off at once to Ugny, where Divisional Artillery Headquarters had stationed themselves, and inform the staff captain that the ammunition dump on the roadside contained no ammunition. "Find out something definite," he ordered.
At his right rode Edward Randolph, our arch-enemy, that 'blasted wretch, as Mather calls him, who achieved the downfall of our ancient government, and was followed with a sensible curse, through life and to his grave. On the other side was Bullivant, scattering jests and mockery as he rode along.
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