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"A floower in front garden!" ironically responded Holgate, the Yorkshire engineer, as he lay on his back on the lower deck of the Osiris, waiting for Fielding Pasha's orders to steam up the river. "'E was the bloomin' flower of the flock," said Henry Withers, with a cross between a yawn and a sigh, and refusing to notice Holgate's sarcasm.
"Aw've taken off ma hat to Goordon's nevvy-he be a fine man-head for macheens he has"-Holgate's eyes dwelt on his engine lovingly; "but aw've heerd nowt o' Macnamara-never nowt o' him. Who was Macnamara?" "'E was the bloomin' flower of the flock-'e was my pal as took service in the Leave-me-alone-to-die Regiment at Khartoum." "Aw've never read o' Macnamara.
"A floower in front garden!" ironically responded Holgate, the Yorkshire engineer, as he lay on his back on the lower deck of the Osiris, waiting for Fielding Pasha's orders to steam up the river. "'E was the bloomin' flower of the flock," said Henry Withers, with a cross between a yawn and a sigh, and refusing to notice Holgate's sarcasm.
Holgate's eyes flashed, and he looked almost angrily down at Dicky, whose hand was between the teeth of the playful Farshoot. "Doost think noa, tha canst not think that Goovnur be 'feared o' Hasha fook. Thinks't tha, a man that told 'em all a thousand therr that he'd hang on nearest tree the foorst that disobeyed him, thinks't tha that Goovnur's lost his nerve by that?"
M. Duchene, French master at Archbishop Holgate's School, York, who was wounded with his regiment at Verdun, writes in glowing terms of his comrades' praise. "Ah, those English soldiers!" he says. "In my regiment you only hear such expressions as 'Ils sont magnifiques, 'Ils sont superbs, 'Quels soldats! No better tribute could be given."
Holgate's eyes flashed, and he looked almost angrily down at Dicky, whose hand was between the teeth of the playful Farshoot. "Doost think noa, tha canst not think that Goovnur be 'feared o' Hasha fook. Thinks't tha, a man that told 'em all a thousand therr that he'd hang on nearest tree the foorst that disobeyed him, thinks't tha that Goovnur's lost his nerve by that?"
"Aw've taken off ma hat to Goordon's nevvy-he be a fine man-head for macheens he has"-Holgate's eyes dwelt on his engine lovingly; "but aw've heerd nowt o' Macnamara-never nowt o' him. Who was Macnamara?" 'E was the bloomin' flower of the flock-'e was my pal as took service in the Leave-me-alone-to-die Regiment at Khartoum." "Aw've never read o' Macnamara. Dost think tha'll ever know how he went?"
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