Part 7 (2/2)
After three minutes of puckered brows and hard breathing the squad is turned to its rear and the examination proceeds.
”Lance-Corporal Ness, what did you notice in the foreground of the picture?”
Lance-Corporal Ness gazes fiercely before him. He has noticed a good deal, but can remember nothing. Moreover, he has no very clear idea what a foreground may be.
”Private Mucklewame?”
Again silence, while the rotund Mucklewame perspires in the throes of mental exertion.
”Private Wemyss?”
No answer.
”Private M'Micking!”
The ”buzzer” smiles feebly, but says nothing.
”Well,”--desperately--”Sergeant Angus! Tell them what you noticed in the foreground.”
Sergeant Angus _(floruit_ A.D. 1895) springs smartly to attention, and replies, with the instant obedience of the old soldier--
”The sky, sirr.”
”Not in the foreground, as a rule,” replies Bobby Little gently.
”About turn again, all of you, and we'll have another try.”
In his next attempt Bobby abandons individual catechism.
”Now,” he begins, ”what conspicuous objects do we notice on this target? In the foreground I can see a low knoll. To the left I see a windmill. In the distance is a tall chimney. Half-right is a church.
How would that church be marked on a map?”
No reply.
”Well,” explains Bobby, anxious to parade a piece of knowledge which he only acquired himself a day or two ago, ”churches are denoted in maps by a cross, mounted on a square or circle, according as the church has a square tower or a steeple. What has this church got?”
”A nock!” bellow the platoon, with stunning enthusiasm. (All but Private M'Micking, that is.)
”A clock, sir,” translates the sergeant, _sotto voce_.
”A clock? All right: but what I wanted was a steeple. Then, farther away, we can see a mine, a winding brook, and a house, with a wall in front of it. Who can see them?”
To judge by the collective expression of the audience, no one does.
Bobby ploughs on.
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