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Updated: May 25, 2025
Papa Wick had been a Commissioner in his day, holding authority over three millions of men in the Chota-Buldana Division, building great works for the good of the land, and doing his best to make two blades of grass grow where there was but one before. Of course, nobody knew anything about this in the little English village where he was just 'old Mr.
'Keep back that young skrim-shanker Porkiss, sir, and let Revere make him sit up. So Bobby departed joyously to Simla Pahar with a tin box of gorgeous raiment. 'Son of Wick old Wick of Chota-Buldana? Ask him to dinner, dear, said the aged men. 'What a nice boy! said the matrons and the maids. 'First-class place, Simla.
When you join the Tail Twisters you'll be among friends, if every one hasn't forgotten Wick of Chota-Buldana, and a lot of people will be kind to you for our sakes. The mother will tell you more about outfit than I can, but remember this. Stick to your Regiment, Bobby stick to your Regiment.
Revere, his eyes red at the rims and his nose very white, went into Bobby's tent to write a letter to Papa Wick which should bow the white head of the ex-Commissioner of Chota-Buldana in the keenest sorrow of his life. Bobby's little store of papers lay in confusion on the table, and among them a half-finished letter.
Little country villages at Home are very full of nice girls, because all the young men come out to India to make their fortunes. 'India, said Papa Wick, 'is the place. I've had thirty years of it and, begad, I'd like to go back again. When you join the Tail Twisters you'll be among friends, if every one hasn't forgotten Wick of Chota-Buldana, and a lot of people will be kind to you for our sakes.
So Bobby departed joyously to Simla Pahar with a tin box of gorgeous raiment. "Son of Wick old Wick of Chota-Buldana? Ask him to dinner, dear," said the aged men. "What a nice boy!" said the matrons and the maids. "First-class place, Simla. Oh, ri ipping!" said Bobby Wick, and ordered new white cord breeches on the strength of it.
Revere, his eyes red at the rims and his nose very white, went into Bobby's tent to write a letter to Papa Wick which should bow the white head of the ex-Commissioner of Chota-Buldana in the keenest sorrow of his life. Bobby's little store of papers lay in confusion on the table, and among them a half-finished letter.
Papa Wick had been a Commissioner in his day, holding authority over three millions of men in the Chota-Buldana Division, building great works for the good of the land, and doing his best to make two blades of grass grow where there was but one before. Of course, nobody knew anything about this in the little English village where he was just "old Mr.
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