"Ay, but you will be getting a commission soon, and there's no chance of that for me. I don't belong to your sort. Besides, what can I do? There's no places but the theatre, the cinema show, and the public-house when the day's work is over." "That's all nonsense," replied Penrose. "Well, what is there?" asked Tom. "There's the Y.M.C.A." "Y.M.C.A.!" laughed Tom, "none o' that for me! I know some of the fools who go to the Y.M.C.A. meetings." "Why are they fools?" "Because they go and hear a lot of pie-jaw; they are a lot of ninnies, that's what they are." "They don't get hauled over the coals for misbehaviour, anyhow." "No, they haven't got pluck enough. I didn't come into the Army to become religious; I joined to fight the blooming Germans, and what's fighting got to do with religion?" "Maybe it has a good deal if you feel you are fighting for a good cause," replied Penrose; "besides, the Y.M.C.A. chaps are not ninnies, as you call them. Some of them are the best fellows we have." "No religious lolly-pops for me," said Tom, "I had enough of that when I lived i' Brunford." "Of course you can go your own way," said Penrose. "I suppose you will spend your evening in the public-house, or at some cinema show, or perhaps you will be larking around with some silly girls; but I am going to the Y.M.C.A." "Do you go there?" cried Tom in astonishment. For Penrose was looked upon as anything but goody-goody, and he was generally admired. He was the best boxer in the company, was smart in drill, could do long marches with the best of them, and was always ready to do a kindly action. Besides all that, his evident education and social superiority made him a marked man. It was rumoured, too, that he had refused a commission. "Of course I go," replied Penrose. "What, and listen to their pie-jaw?" "There is precious little pie-jaw, as you call it," was Penrose's response. "We have jolly good entertainments almost every night, and some of the fellows who come to talk to us are not half bad, I can tell you! Besides, I go there to rub up my conversational French." "Conversational French!" said Tom, only dimly understanding what he meant. "Dost 'a mean to say that they learn you French there?" "There's a Frenchman who gives his services free," replied Penrose. "It's jolly good of him too, for the poor wretch has hardly a sixpence to his name; still he does it. In his way he's quite a French scholar, and he has helped me no end." "Ay, but you learnt French at school," said Tom; "he would have nowt to do wi' a chap like me." "Don't be an ass. Why, dozens of fellows go to him every night. A few weeks ago they didn't know a word of French, and now they are picking it up like mad. Besides all that, the Y.M.C.A. rooms are open every night, they have all sorts of games there, lots of newspapers, and they give you every facility for writing letters and that sort of thing." "By gum!" said Tom, "I didn't know that."