United States or Rwanda ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
And taking from his pocket his morning papers, which he had not yet had time to peruse, he buried himself in their contents. He was still deeply absorbed when the cab stopped and the driver knocked on the window. Mr. Lavender got out, followed by Blink, and was feeling in his pocket for the fare when an exclamation broke from the driver: "Gorblimy! I've brought the wrong baby!" And before Mr.
He held a large, semi-circular piece of iron in his hand. "Is that what they took out o' yer arm?" said one of the infantrymen. "Yes decent bit, isn't it!" "Gorblimy, I wish I could 'ave a bit like that, in me knee or somewhere, to lay me up for months." His comrade added in a voice full of hopeless longing: "I wish I were in his shoes. Anything to keep out of that hell up the line!"
What's the use o' lettin' good stuff go west? A dead un can't do nothin' wi' watches an' rings an' five-franc notes! Gorblimy, 'ave a bit o' sense! It's allus your class o' blokes what makes a bleed'n' fuss!" Having thus vindicated their rights, the two men turned away in order to continue their search for the legitimate spoils of war.
Dead Frenchmen were lying everywhere. From a drab heap of mud and clothing a human arm projected. The terminal finger-joints had dropped off. The blackened skin was drawn tightly over the back of the hand which seemed to clutch frantically at some invisible object. A little further on two soldiers were scraping the soil with sticks. "Gorblimy 'e ain't 'alf rotten puh don't 'e stink!
A man in the front rank not far from me muttered in an agonized voice: "Gorblimy, get a bloody move on I'm perishin' wi' cold." Another added: "They don't say nothin' when 'e comes late on parade 'e wouldn't mind if we was kept 'ere all day oo, me feet, they're absolutely froze." The Sergeant-Major swung round sharply and bawled out: "Stop that talking there you're stood to attention!"
They sat up and groaned and yawned and stretched out their arms, or turned round impatiently and went to sleep again. One of them looked at his wrist-watch: "Gorblimy, 'tain't 'alf-past four what the bleed'n' 'ell d'they want to wake us this time of a mornin' for? Some bloody fatigue, I bet yer!" "Wha', ain't it 'ah'-past five?" "'Alf-past five be blowed! 'Tain't 'alf-past four!"
I'd fight it out meself, like a man! That's me! That's 'ow I'd do it! Act like a bleed'n' sport, I would tell yer straight! Gorblimy draggin' us out 'ere inter this bloody misery it makes me blood boil...." This fulmination was interrupted by shouts of "Shut up" and "'Old yer jaw" and "Put a sock in it" and "Let's get a bit o' sleep," but there was no chance of further sleep.
Perhaps you'll explain how there's no harm breakin' into unoccupied 'ouses?" "Gorblimy, 'ow was I to know? 'Ere's a toff 'ands me sixpence fer hopenin' 'is cab door to-dye, an', sezee, 'My man, 'e sez, 'yer've got a 'onest fyce. W'y don'cher work? sezee.
He fell in with it, slammed it, shot the bolts, and, panting, leaned against its panels, in a pit of everlasting night but saved! for the time being, at all events. Outside somebody brushed against one wall, cannoned to the other, brought up with a crash against the door, and, perforce at a standstill, swore from his heart. "Gorblimy!" he declared feelingly.
Fritz was sending 'em over by the 'undreds, whizz-bangs an' 'eavy stuff all mixed up gorblimy, 'e don't 'alf give yer what for!" There was a temporary lull in the conversation and then a small, wiry, spiteful looking Cockney spoke. He had reddish hair and big round spectacles of the army pattern. "I didn' 'alf do it on a Fritz afore I was wounded!