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Updated: May 28, 2025
Suddenly his eye fell upon Private Mucklewame, blindly and woodenly yelling himself hoarse. In three strides M'Slattery was standing face to face with the unconscious criminal. "Yous low, lousy puddock," he roared "tak' off your bonnet!" He saved Mucklewame the trouble of complying, and strode back to his place in the ranks. "Yin mair, chaps," he shouted "for the young leddy!"
The moon had disappeared altogether now, but M'Snape was able to calculate, by reason of the misdirected exuberance of the vigilant Mucklewame, the exact position of the sentry-group on the left-hand road. About the road on his right he was not so certain; so he set out cautiously towards it, keeping to the edge of the wood, and pausing every few yards to listen.
The man with the Lewis gun was lying dead halfway across the street, with his precious weapon on the ground beside him. Two other men, both wounded, were crawling back whence they came, taking what cover they could from the storm of bullets which whizzed a few inches over their flinching bodies. Angus hastily semaphored to Mucklewame to hold his men in check for the present.
M'Snape, you will come with me, but no one else yet. If the estaminet seems capable of being held, I will signal to you, Sergeant Mucklewame, and you will send your party across, in driblets, not forgetting the Lewis gun. By that time I may have located the German machine-gun, so we should be able to knock it out with the Lewis."
But the sight of Bobby Little's art gallery cheers them up. They contemplate the picture with childlike interest. It resembles nothing so much as one of those pleasing but imaginative posters by the display of which our Railway Companies seek to attract the tourist to the less remunerative portions of their systems. "What for is the wee felly gaun' tae show us puctures?" Thus Private Mucklewame.
My head is doing well, but the muscules of my right leg is badly torn. I should have liked fine for to have stayed out and come home with the other boys when we are through with Berlin. Having no more to say, sir, I will now draw to a close. Jas. Mucklewame, After the perusal of this characteristic Ave atque Vale! the two friends adjourned to the balcony, overlooking the Green Park.
Your loving husband, JAS. MUCKLEWAME, No. 74077. But there are features of this multifarious correspondence over which one has no inclination to smile. There are wistful references to old days; tender inquiries after bairns and weans; assurances to anxious wives and mothers that the dangers of modern warfare are merely nominal.
Another set of targets slide up as the first go down, and upon these the hits are recorded by a forest of black or white discs, waving vigorously in the air. Here and there a red-and-white flag flaps derisively. Mucklewame gets one of these. The marking-targets go down to half-mast again, and then comes another tense pause. Then, as the firing-targets reappear, there is another volley.
"Aye," replied Mucklewame, friendship getting the better of conscience. "Wull ye give a body yin?" "Aye. But ye canna smoke on ootpost duty," explained Mucklewame sternly. "Forbye, the officer has no been roond yet," he added. "Onyway," urged Dunshie eagerly, "let nae be your prisoner! Let me bide with the other boys in here ahint the dyke!"
Almost simultaneously there came a triumphant roar lower down the street, as Mucklewame and his followers dashed obliquely across into the estaminet. Mucklewame himself was carrying the derelict Lewis gun. In the doorway stood the watchful M'Snape. "This way, quick!" he shouted. "We have the Gairman gun spotted, and the officer is needing the Lewis!" But M'Snape was wrong.
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