His father was the Colonel of the 195th, and as soon as Wee Willie
Winkie was old enough to understand what Military Discipline meant,
Colonel Williams put him under it. There was no other way of managing
the child. When he was good for a week, he drew good-conduct pay; and
when he was bad, he was deprived of his good-conduct stripe. Generally
he was bad, for India offers so many chances to little six-year-olds of
going wrong.
Children resent familiarity from strangers, and Wee Willie Winkie was a
very particular child. Once he accepted an acquaintance, he was
graciously pleased to thaw. He accepted Brandis, a subaltern of the
195th, on sight. Brandis was having tea at the Colonel's, and Wee Willie
Winkie entered strong in the possession of a good-conduct badge won for
not chasing the hens round the compound. He regarded Brandis with
gravity for at least ten minutes, and then delivered himself of his
opinion.
"I like you," said he, slowly, getting off his chair and coming over
to Brandis. "I like you. I shall call you Coppy, because of your hair.
Do you _mind_ being called Coppy? it is because of ve hair, you know."
[Illustration: RUDYARD KIPLING]
Here was one of the most embarrassing of Wee Willie Winkie's
peculiarities. He would look at a stranger for some time, and then,
without warning or explanation, would give him a name. And the name
stuck. No regimental penalties could break Wee Willie Winkie of this
habit. He lost his good-conduct badge for christening the Commissioner's
wife "Pobs"; but nothing that the Colonel could do made the Station
forego the nickname, and Mrs. Collen remained Mrs. "Pobs" till the end
of her stay. So Brandis was christened "Coppy," and rose, therefore, in
the estimation of the regiment.
If Wee Willie Winkie took an interest in any one, the fortunate man was
envied alike by the mess and the rank and file. And in their envy lay no
suspicion of self-interest. "The Colonel's son" was idolized on his own
merits entirely. Yet Wee Willie Winkie was not lovely. His face was
permanently freckled, as his legs were permanently scratched, and in
spite of his mother's almost tearful remonstrances he had insisted upon
having his long yellow locks cut short in the military fashion. "I want
my hair like Sergeant Tummil's," said Wee Willie Winkie, and, his father
abetting, the sacrifice was accomplished.
Three weeks after the bestowal of his youthful affections on Lieutenant
Brandis--henceforward to be called "Coppy" for the sake of brevity--Wee
Willie Winkie was destined to behold strange things and far beyond his
comprehension.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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