India -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, English
The Colonel made no answer for a long time. Then he said quietly:--"If
you're passed by the Doctor I dare say you can go. I shouldn't smoke if I
were you."
The boys saluted and disappeared. The Colonel walked home and told the
story to his wife, who nearly cried over it. The Colonel was well pleased.
If that was the temper of the children, what would not the men do?
Jakin and Lew entered the boys' barrack-room with great stateliness, and
refused to hold any conversation with their comrades for at least ten
minutes. Then, bursting with pride, Jakin drawled:--"I've bin intervooin'
the Colonel. Good old beggar is the Colonel. Says I to 'im, 'Colonel,'
says I, 'let me go the Front, along o' the Reg'ment.' 'To the Front you
shall go,' says 'e, 'an' I only wish there was more like you among the
dirty little devils that bang the bloomin' drums.' Kidd, if you throw your
'coutrements at me for tellin' you the truth to your own advantage, your
legs 'll swell."
None the less there was a Battle-Royal in the barrack-room, for the boys
were consumed with envy and hate, and neither Jakin nor Lew behaved in
conciliatory wise.
"I'm goin' out to say adoo to my girl," said Lew, to cap the climax.
"Don't none o' you touch my kit because it's wanted for active service, me
bein' specially invited to go by the Colonel"
He strolled forth and whistled in the clump of trees at the back of the
Married Quarters till Cris came to him, and, the preliminary kisses being
given and taken, Lew began to explain the situation.
"I'm goin' to the Front with the Reg'ment," he said, valiantly,
"Piggy, you're a little liar," said Cris, but her heart misgave her, for
Lew was not in the habit of lying.
"Liar yourself, Cris," said Lew. slipping an arm round her. "I'm goin'
When the Reg'ment marches out you'll see me with 'em, all galliant and
gay. Give us another kiss, Cris, on the strength of it."
"If you'd on'y a-stayed at the Depôt--where you _ought_ to ha' bin--you
could get as many of 'em as--as you dam please," whimpered Cris, putting
up her mouth.
"It's 'ard, Cris. I grant you it's 'ard. But what's a man to do? If I'd
a-stayed at the Depôt, you wouldn't think anything of me,"
"Like as not, but I'd 'ave you with me, Piggy, An' all the thinkin' in the
world isn't like kissin'."
"An' all the kissin' in the world isn't like 'avin' a medal to wear on the
front o' your coat."
"_You_ won't get no medal."
"Oh, yus, I shall though. Me an' Jakin are the only acting-drummers
that'll be took along. All the rest is full men, an' we'll get our medals
with them."
"They might ha' taken anybody but you, Piggy. You'll get killed--you're so
venturesome. Stay with me, Piggy, darlin', down at the Depôt, an' I'll
love you true forever."
"Ain't you goin' to do that _now_, Cris? You said you was."
"O' course I am, but th' other's more comfortable. Wait till you've growed
a bit, Piggy. You aren't no taller than me now."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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