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There was the sound of a gentle chuckle from the glacis where Learoyd lay. "'E expects to get 'is C'mission some day," explained Orth'ris; "Gawd 'elp the Mess that 'ave to put their 'ands into the same kiddy as 'im! Wot time d'you make it, sir? Fower! Mulvaney 'll be out in 'arf an hour. You don't want to buy a dorg, sir, do you? A pup you can trust 'arf Rampore by the Colonel's grey'ound."
Mullins, a very young and very much married Sergeant, whose manners were partly the result of innate depravity and partly of imperfectly digested Board School, came over the bridge, and most rudely asked Ortheris what he was doing. 'Me? said Ortheris. 'Ow! I'm waiting for my C'mission. 'Seed it comin' along yit? Mullins turned purple and passed on.
"Gentleman born," said Mulvaney; "Corp'ril wan year, Sargint nex'. Red-hot on his C'mission, but dhrinks like a fish. He'll be gone before the cowld weather's here. So!" He slipped his boot, and with the naked toe just touched the trigger of his Martini.
Mullins, a very young and very much married Sergeant, whose manners were partly the result of innate depravity and partly of imperfectly digested Board School, came over the bridge, and most rudely asked Ortheris what he was doing. "Me?" said Ortheris, "Ow! I'm waiting for my C'mission. 'Seed it comin' along yit?" Mullins turned purple and passed on.
There was the sound of a gentle chuckle from the glacis where Learoyd lay. ''E expects to get 'is C'mission some day, explained Ortheris; Gawd 'elp the Mess that 'ave to put their 'ands into the same kiddy as 'im! Wot time d'you make it, Sir? Fower! Mulvaney'll be out in 'arf an hour. You don't want to buy a dorg, Sir, do you? A pup you can trust 'arf Rampore by the Colonel's grey-'ound.
Newton that was took with inflam'try rheumatism an' couldn't go. Counahan the Navigator we called him." "Nick Counahan he never went aboard fer a night 'thout a pond o' rum somewheres in the manifest," said Tom Platt, playing up to the lead. "He used to bum araound the c'mission houses to Boston lookin' fer the Lord to make him captain of a tow-boat on his merits.
'Gentleman born, said Mulvaney; 'Corp'ril wan year, Sargint nex'. Red-hot on his C'mission, but dhrinks like a fish. He'll be gone before the cowld weather's here. So! He slipped his boot, and with the naked toe just touched the trigger of his Martini.
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