The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life: Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. TicklemoreMayer, J. E.
General
The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life: Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. Ticklemore
Mayer, J. E.
British -- India; India -- Social life and customs
This led to a renewal of the invitation, on the part of the younger men,
to join them in their cheetah and tiger expeditions, which at first,
being no ball shot, I was not anxious to do. No one likes to exhibit his
want of skill in any exercise or pastime, and therefore I declined. My
young friends, either out of playful malice, or out of an unacknowledged
unwritten belief that medical men, not being combatant officers, are not
equal to them in courage, overwhelmed me with banter and chaff (as the
phrase now is) of all kinds. I cannot remember a tithe of it, but it was
in the main something of this kind: 'Don't say any more, Bob; the Doctor
is a clever fellow; he knows as well how to take care of himself as to
whip off a fellow's leg, don't you, Doctor?' and before I could reply to
this jibe B. said, 'Don't forget, all of you, what an important
personage the Doctor is. If he was chawed up, what should we do? But if
half a dozen of us poor devils came to grief that way it wouldn't much
signify. We are paid for being shot, or for being ready to be disposed
of; we are, in the customary phrase, "only food for powder and shot,"
and you see that's not the case with the Doctor.' Turning from one to
the other as they discharged their little shafts, I was silly enough to
get very angry, and my indignation broke out thus: 'Confound you, what
has led you to make this dead set at me? If you fancy that I value my
life one bit more than any one of you, you make a very great mistake,
and you will compel me to give one of you an unpleasant proof of it if
I'm to be subject to more of this kind of conversation.'
No one said anything, but the Colonel wore a broad grin on his face, and
W. laughed immoderately. I was now in a towering passion. I got up,
saying, 'I haven't often been your guest at mess, gentlemen, and I can't
say I think my welcome on this occasion such as to induce me to intrude
on your hospitality again.' W. started up and caught hold of my arm,
saying, 'Surely you are not so silly as to take offence at a little
harmless chaff? not one of us would intentionally say or do anything to
hurt or annoy you. I really thought there was more manly stability in
you than to fly off in this way.' 'And, pray,' said I, 'what have I said
or done to give cause for your fit of laughter?' 'It was your getting so
angry that amused me, but as you have taken it so much amiss, I am
really sorry for it,' at the same time, with an open frank smile,
offering his hand. Who could resist W.? I heartily shook his hand, and
said, 'W., you make me ashamed of having shown such want of temper, but
these young good-for-nothing scamps here, with their jibes one after
the other, threw me off my balance for the moment.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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