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Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936

"Soldiers Three"

'As well 'ere as anywhere else.'
Learoyd held up a rupee and an eight-anna bit, and shook his head
sorrowfully. 'Five mile from t' Canteen, all along o' Mulvaney's
blaasted pride.'
'I know ut,' said Mulvaney penitently. 'Why will ye come wid me? An'
yet I wud be mortial sorry if ye did not--any time--though I am ould
enough to know betther. But I will do penance. I will take a dhrink
av wather.'
Ortheris squeaked shrilly. The butler of the Forest bungalow was
standing near the railings with a basket, uncertain how to clamber
down to the pontoon. 'Might 'a' know'd you'd 'a' got liquor out o'
bloomin' desert, Sir,' said Ortheris, gracefully, to me. Then to the
mess-man: 'Easy with them there bottles. They're worth their weight
in gold. Jock, ye long-armed beggar, get out o' that an' hike 'em
down.'
Learoyd had the basket on the pontoon in an instant, and the Three
Musketeers gathered round it with dry lips. They drank my health in
due and ancient form, and thereafter tobacco tasted sweeter than ever.
They absorbed all the beer, and disposed themselves in picturesque
attitudes to admire the setting sun--no man speaking for a while.


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