Part 29 (1/2)
”Oh!” I ejaculated
”Oh!” said Pryor ”Seen so?”
”Not much,” said the man, ”not too much” His eyes lit up as with fire and he sent a potato stripped clean of its jacket up to the roof but with such precision that it dropped down straight into the bucket
”First ent south and the Germans came across up north 'Twas turn about and up likeWe got into battle near Paris The Boches caround like flies on the dead at Souchez The 75's came into work there 'Tonderful Pip! pip! pip! pip! Men were cut doiped out in hundreds When the gun was useless--guns had short lives and glorious lives there--a new one came into play (p 284) and killed, killed, until it could stand the strain no longer”
”Much hand-to-hand fighting?” asked Pryor
”The bayonet! Yes!” The potato-peeler thrust his knife through a potato and slit it in two ”The Gerh!' ent for theinary enemy ”And we cut them down”
He paused as if at a loss for words, and sent his knife whirling into the air where it spun at an alared my chair nearer the door, but the potato-peeler, suddenly standing upright, caught the weapon by the haft as it circled and bent to lift a fresh potato
”What is that for?” asked Pryor, pointing to a sreathed in a garland of flowers, tattooed on the man's arm
”The rapier,” said the potato-peeler ”I'm a fencer, a master-fencer; fenced in Paris and several places”
The wo round like a bee, droning out in an incoherent voice as she served the customers
Now she came up to the master-fencer, looked at him in the face for a second, and then looked at the bucket The sweat oozed froe
”Hurry, and get the work done,” she said to her husband, then she turned to us ”You're keeping hi like parrots Allez-vous en! Allez-vous en!”
We left the house of the potato-peeler and returned to our digging
The wo Bill ca on the banquette In his hand was an English paper that I had just been reading and in his eye rath
”The 'ole geeser's fyce is in this 'ere thing again,” he said scornfully ”Blimy! it's like the bad weather, it's everywhere”
”Whose face do you refer to?” I asked my friend
”This Jimace,” was the answer and Bill pointed to the photo of a well-known society lady as shown in the act of escorting a wounded soldier along a broad avenue of trees that tapered away to a point where an English country mansion showed like a doll's house in the distance ”Every pyper I open she's in it; if she's not makin'
socks for poor Toes on (p 286) wounded To in that,” I said, noting the sarcasm in Bill's voice
”S'pose its natural for 'er to let everybody knohat she does, like a 'en that lays a negg,” my mate answered ”She's on this pyper or that pyper every day She's learnin' nursin' one day, learnin' to drive an ambulance the next day, she doesn't carry a powder puff in 'er vanity bag at present----”
”Who said so?” I asked
”It's 'ere in black and white,” said Bill ”'Er vanity bag 'as given place to a respirator, an' instead of a powder puff she now carries an antiskeptic bandage It land 'Ere's another picture called 'Bathin' as usual' A dozen of girls out in the sea (jolly good legs some of 'em 'as, too) 'avin' a bit of a frisky Listen what it says: 'Despite the trying ti it, Pat, they're nothin' to the French girls, theirl you knew at St Albans?” I asked ”You remember how she slid down the banisters and made toffee”
”She wasn't no class, you know,” said Bill (p 287)