Excessively so. It was a gorgeous wedding.
* * * * * *
"Wot did I do it for?" said Corporal Slane. "For the 'orses 0' course. Jhansi
ain't a beauty to look at, but I wasn't goin' to 'ave a hired turn-out. Jerry
Blazes? If I 'adn't 'a' wanted something, Sim might ha' blowed Jerry Blazes'
blooming 'ead into Hirish stew for aught I'd 'a' cared."
And they hanged Private Simmons--hanged him as high as Haman in hollow square
of the regiment; and the Colonel said it was Drink; and the Chaplain was sure
it was the Devil; and Simmons fancied it was both, but he didn't know, and
only hoped his fate would be a warning to his companions; and half a dozen
"intelligent publicists" wrote six beautiful leading articles on "'The
Prevalence of Crime in the Army."
But not a soul thought of comparing the "bloody-minded Simmons" to the
squawking, gaping schoolgirl with which this story opens.
THE ENLIGHTENMENTS OF PAGETT, M.P.
"Because half a dozen grasshoppers under a fern make the field ring with their
importunate chink while thousands of great cattle, reposed beneath the shadow
of the British oak, chew the cud and are silent, pray do not imagine that
those who make the noise are the only inhabitants of the field--that, of
course, they are many in number or that, after all, they are other than the
little, shrivelled, meagre, hopping, though loud and troublesome insects of
the hour.
Pages:
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496