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Updated: June 4, 2025
'Is sufferings swelled him up centimetres, and all he could do on the Hard was to kiss Lootenant Morshed and me, and your Mr. Leggatt. He deserved that much. A cordial beggar. Pyecroft looked at the washed cups on the table, and the low sunshine on my car's back in the yard. 'Too early to drink to him, he said. 'But I feel it just the same.
"Here's santy to him," and I finished my sherry and bitters to you, uncle. 'That's right, said Pyecroft's uncle sternly. 'If you hadn't I'd have belted you worth rememberin', Emmanuel. I had the body all night. Pyecroft smiled affectionately. 'So you 'ad, uncle, an' beautifully you looked after her. But as I was saying, "I have an uncle, too," says Mr. Morshed, dark and lowering.
'That umpire, he said suddenly, 'was our Mr. Morshed a gentleman whose acquaintance you have already made and profited by, if I mistake not . 'Oh, was the Navy in it too? I said; for I had read of wild doings occasionally among the Boy Scouts on the Portsmouth Road, in which Navy, Army, and the world at large seemed to have taken part. 'The Navy was in it.
"Yet somehow I can't love him. I want to mortify the beggar. Volunteers to mortify my uncle, one pace to the front." 'I took Jules with me the regulation distance. Jules was getting interested. Your Mr. Leggatt preserved a strictly nootral attitude. "You're a pressed man," says our Mr. Morshed. "I owe your late employer much, so to say. The car will manoeuvre all night, as requisite." 'Mr.
Morshed delivered a farewell address to Eddy and Co., tellin' 'em they ought to have deduced from a hundred signs about me, that I was a friendly bringin' in dispatches from the North. We left 'em tryin' to find those signs in the Scout book, and we reached Mr. Morshed's hotel at Portsmouth at 6.27 P.M. ong automobile. Here endeth the first chapter. 'Begin the second, I said.
'It was like nightmares, he said. 'It was like nightmares. 'Once more, then, Pyecroft swept on, 'we returned to the hotel and partook of a sumptuous repast, under the able and genial chairmanship of our Mr. Morshed, who laid his projecks unreservedly before us.
The uncle and Leggatt had finished washing up and were seated, smoking, while the damp duster dried at the fire. 'About what time was it, said Pyecroft to Leggatt, 'when our Mr. Morshed began to talk about uncles? 'When he came back to the bar, after he'd changed into those rat-catcher clothes, said Leggatt. 'That's right. "Pye," said he, "have you an uncle?" "I have," I says.
"I said it was the key to the position," Lootenant Morshed remarks. "Trot out Persimmon!" which we rightly took to read, "Un-wrap the rocking-horse." "Houp la!" says Jules in a insubordinate tone, an' slaps Persimmon on the flank. "Silence!" says the Lootenant. "This is the Royal Navy, not Newmarket"; and we carried Persimmon to the top of the mangel-wurzel clump as directed.
The Junior Service was going to bye-bye all round us, as happy as the ship's monkey when he's been playin' with the paints, and Lootenant Morshed and Jules kept bowin' to port and starboard of the superstructure, acknowledgin' the unstinted applause which the multitude would 'ave given 'em if they'd known the facts. On the other 'and, as your Mr. Leggatt observed, they might 'ave killed us.
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