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Updated: June 22, 2025
He calls it 'Th' Thruce iv th' Bear. This is th' way it happened: Roodyard Kipling had just finished his mornin' batch iv pothry f'r th' home-thrade, an' had et his dinner, an' was thinkin' iv r-runnin' out in th' counthry f'r a breath iv fr-resh air, whin in come a tillygram sayin' that th' Czar iv Rooshia had sint out a circular letther sayin' ivrybody in th' wurruld ought to get together an' stop makin' war an' live a quite an' dull life.
"Trust you, Bob!" exclaimed Pat, with enthusiasm, "look here, now; this is how the wind blows. If the Prime Minister o' Rooshia was to come to me in full regimentals an' offer to make me capting o' the Horse Marines to the Hemperor, I'd say, `No thankee, I'm engaged, as the young woman said to the young man she didn't want to marry."
"How was I to know it was you?" inquired the mate surlily, as he realised his defeat. "I thought it was the Empress of Rooshia." The skipper stared at him dumbly. "An' if you take my advice," said the mate, with a sneer, "you'll keep them things on. I never see you look so well in anything afore." "I want to borrow some o' your clothes, Bob," said the skipper, eyeing him steadily.
Most of them had never heard at all of Herr Max, or of 'Gold and the Proletariate, and those who had heard understood for the most part that he was a bad lot who was imprisoned for trying nefariously to blow up the Emperor of Rooshia.
"Yer counthry!" repeated Mrs. Fitzpatrick with scorn. "An' what counthry is that?" "Russia," said the man with dignity, "my native land." "Rooshia! An' a bloody country it is," answered Mrs. Fitzpatrick with scorn. "Yes, Russia," he cried, "my bloody country! You are correct. Red with the blood of my countrymen, the blood of my kindred this hundred years and more."
'Here is the Gallipolly expedition a failure and the Grand Duke Nicholas sent off, and everyone knows the Czar of Rooshia is a pro-German and the Allies have no ammunition and Bulgaria is going against us.
The bushrangers! Oh, damn 'em, damn 'em! ... damn their bloody eyes!" "It's Rooshia that's what it is!" said an oldish man darkly. The Commissioner, a horse-faced, solemn man with brown side whiskers, let the reins droop on his mare's neck and sat unwinking in the tumult. His mien was copied by his staff.
You'd 'ardly believe it, but I bought this in Vienna on my way out here, and it used to belong to the Empress Catherine of Rooshia, and I gave a twenty-pun' note for it, and it's got her monogram.
All we've got to do is to arrest th' pathrites an' make th' reconcenthradios pay th' stamp tax, an' be r-ready f'r to take a punch at Germany or France or Rooshia or anny counthry on th' face iv th' globe. "An' I'm glad iv it. This war, Hinnissy, has been a gr-reat sthrain on me. To think iv th' suffrin' I've endured!
And to-night I'm takin' her home for repairs back to the fact'ry in Rooshia where they made her; and the devil of a job it will be, for she handles with all the grace of a pig in a puddle." Chet risked a glance when the sound of heavy footsteps indicated that one of the two speakers had gone on alone to the pilots' gate.
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