Sergeant Skimps surveyed the squad of recruits with the eye of a man
who had seen recruits for twenty years and was impervious to any
emotion on the subject.
"You're soldiers now," he began, his dialect strongly reminiscent of
Bow Bells; "you're in the service now, so, kiss me, 'Arry, get your
'air cut, all of yer. We don't go in for Paderooskies in the harmy.
Then 'old yer 'eads hup and put yer chests hout has though you was
somebody. You ain't, but don't go tellin' no one." (A gentle murmur
greeted this sally.) "Halways respeck yer hofficers and
non-commissioned hofficers, and don't go slapping the colonel on the
back and hoffering 'im a cigar. You're in the harmy--that bloke at the
hend, spit out that there tobacco--g'wan!--a filthy 'abit on parade,
and it'll get C.B. for yer. Where do you 'ail from, hany'ow?--a nice
specimen, I don't think--chewing when a sawgeant's talking to yer. Now,
then, fall in--hanother 'arf-hour's drill."
For five hours that day alternately Sergeant Skimps talked, and his
tired squad turned, marched, and wheeled about the gravel
parade-ground. Weary to the point of exhaustion, already deaf to the
interminable harangue of Sergeant Skimps, the hour of four-thirty found
Montague with his first day in the army finished. He had only one
desire--to seek his apartment, to feel the cool shower upon his body,
and to lounge in languid repose in his dressing-gown, soothed by the
inevitable cigarette. He broke away from the group, but was hailed by a
ruddy-faced Little Englander, who had made various overtures to him
during the day.
"Going up?" said the other, his accent proclaiming his British birth,
tempered by ten years of Canadian citizenship.
"Yes," said Montague; "but I'm in a hurry."
"Right-o! I'm with you." He swung along beside Montague. "This is the
life," he said cheerily.
"What?" asked Montague.
"Soldiering--a dollar ten a day, short hours, and no work--what ho!"
"Do you mean to say you like it?" asked Montague, wishing his companion
reeked a little less of his recent exertions.
"Why not like it?" said Private Waller. "We're in it, ain't we?"
"I suppose so," said the other shortly.