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Updated: May 15, 2025
Suddenly, without any warning, he slid into the maudlin phase, taking his parable of lamentation against "this crule warr." "I weep, sirr," said he, "over the rrupture of mee adhopted counthree the counthree that resaved mee with opin arrums, when I was floying from the feece of toirants," &c., &c.
"Do you know what a chiropodist is?" he asked. "No, sirr," replied Dunshie, with unabated aplomb. To do him justice, the revelation of the nature of his prospective labours made no difference whatever to Dunshie's willingness to undertake them.
"He wad wish tu speak wi' ye, Sirr." The inspector's face hardened, and his steely eyes glittered strangely as he heard the news. For a brief space he remained, chin in hand, in deep thought; then rising, he sauntered slowly over to the prisoner's cell. "What is it you want, Gully?" he said quietly. "Kilbride Inspector!" came the great rumbling bass through the bars.
'Sirr, the prisoner would appear to be trying to puishon hisself. Wull I search him? After that he stood with each arm in the grip of a warder. 'Mr Ivery, I said, 'last night, when I was in your power, you indulged your vanity by gloating over me. I expected it, for your class does not breed gentlemen. We treat our prisoners differently, but it is fair that you should know your fate.
At aboot four-thirrty P.M., Lance-Corporal Ness reported this man tae me for refusing for tae obey an order. I confined him." The Captain turns to the prisoner. "What have you to say, Private Dunshie?" Private Dunshie, it appears, has a good deal to say. "I jined the Airmy for tae fight they Germans, and no for tae be learned tae scrub floors " "Sirr!" suggests the Sergeant-Major in his ear.
Brother Boche was merely "loosing off a belt," as a precautionary measure, at commendably regular intervals. "I cannot locate that gun," said Angus impatiently. "Can you, Corporal M'Snape?" "It is not in the estamint itself, sirr," replied M'Snape. I doubt they cannot see us themselves only the ground in front of us."
"A procession is the very last thing a scout goes out in!" raps Wagstaffe. "A spy, sirr," replies the omniscient one. "Well, that's better; but there's a big difference between the two. What is it?" This is a poser. Several men know the difference, but feel quite incapable of explaining it. The question runs down the front rank. "A spy, sirr, gets mair money than a scout."
Groove, I am a poor fainting pilgrim on the road, where stronger spirits have marched erect before me." "A faintin' pelgrim! Deil a frights o' ye, ye're a brisk and bonny lad. Ah, sirr, in my juvenile days, we didna fash wi nature, and truth, an the like." "The like! What is like nature and truth, except themselves?"
Sirr parleyed for a while; a file of soldiers was meanwhile summoned to his aid, and Russell was borne off in irons a prisoner to the Castle. While undergoing this second captivity a bold attempt was made by his friends to effect his liberation by bribing one of the gaolers; the plot, however, broke down, and Russell never breathed the air of freedom again.
"Private M'Sumph, I see you are down for a new pack. Where is your old one?" "Blawn off ma back, sirr!" "Where are your puttees?" "Blawn off ma feet, sirr!" "Where is your iron ration?" "Blawn oot o' ma pooch, sirr!" "Where is your head?" "Blawn I beg your pardon, sirr!" followed by generous reissues all round.
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