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"Now, if you never drink, will you please tell me what makes that nose of yours so red?" The impertinence of the questioner at once aroused the irascibility of the old gentleman, and he replied: "Sir-r, it is glowing with proid because it is kept out of other people's business." Why He Knew
"It is a theery A' have, sir-r," he said; "yon Archie, the new feller, is being tried oot. He is different to the rest. Mr. Austin had him the other night. Mr. Colebeck was nearly brought doon yesterday morn. Every one in the squadron has had a taste of him, and every one in the squadron has been lucky." "That is a fact," said Austin; "this new gun is a terror."
He jist done pick up his eddication from folks pass'n' by, jes' as yew fellers is a passin', 'n' they might say a few wuds o' information to him. He done git a fine eddication jes' thet way, 'n' they ain't no flies on him, these days, when money-gett'n' is 'roun'. Jes' noth'n' like it, sir-r! Eddication does th' biz!"
He believes we get the wind up because he'd be silly wi' terror if we did the same thing to him. Ye can always scare a Hoon that's ma theery, sir-r." Craig had no further opportunity for discussing the matter, for the next morning he was "concussed" in midair and retained sufficient sense to bring his machine to the ground. Unfortunately the ground was in the temporary occupation of the German.
"Sir-r," said Tam solemnly, "I ha'e a grand stunt." He went back to his room and addressed the envelope: "Mr. von Mahl." The next morning when the well-born members of the Ninety-fifth Squadron of the Imperial German Air Service were making their final preparations to ascend, a black speck appeared in the sky. Captain Karl von Zeiglemann fixed the speck with his Zeiss glasses and swore.
Dexter, towards the end of the address. "You will do me a hundred lines." "Oo-o-o, sir-r," said Chapple. But he felt at the time that it was not much of a repartee. After dinner there was the usual interview with Mr. Seymour. "You were late again this morning," he said. "Yes, sir," said Chapple. "Two hundred lines." "Yes, sir." The thing was becoming monotonous. Chapple pulled himself together.
"I'll read you the poem, Captain Blackie, sir-r," said Tam nervously, and after much coughing he read: "A graund an' nooble clood Was the flyin' hero's shrood Who dies at half-past seven And he verra well desairves The place that God resairves For the men who die in Heaven. "A've signed it, 'Kind regards an' deepest sympathy wi' a' his loved ains," said Tam.
"'Captain Muller," read Tam, "'yesterday shot doon his twenty-sixth aeroplane." "That's Müller," said the other carefully. "I can tell you no more except look after yourself." "Ha'e na doot aboot that, sir-r," said Tam with confidence. He went up that afternoon in accordance with instructions received from headquarters to "search enemy territory west of a line from Montessier to St.
"Ah, the gun," said Tam as though it were some small matter which he had overlooked in the greater business of the day. "Well, now, sir-r, that is some gun, and after A've had a sup o' tea A'll tell you the story of ma reckless exploits." He walked slowly over to his mess, followed by the badinage of his superiors. "You saw it, Austin, didn't you?" Blackie turned to the young airman.
"He's just off to the Cage, and he wants to say 'How-d'-ye-do." Tam met the prisoner and shook hands with great solemnity. "Hoo air ye, sir-r?" he asked with admirable sang-froid. "A' seem to remember yer face though A' hae no' met ye only to shoot at, an' that spoils yeer chance o' gettin' acquainted wi' a body." "I think we've met before," said the baron with a grim little smile.
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