My young bucks, listen to what I tell you; you'll always
find it good--put your cup in your pocket."
"No fear," says Lamuse, "you won't see me put my cup in my pocket;
damned silly idea, no more or less. I'd a sight sooner sling it on a
strap with a hook."
"Fasten it on a greatcoat button, like the gas-helmet bag, that's a
lot better; for suppose you take off your accouterments and there's
any wine passing, you look soft."
"I've got a Boche drinking-cup," says Barque; "it's flat, so it goes
into a side pocket if you like, or it goes very well into a
cartridge-pouch, once you've fired the damn things off or pitched
them into a bag."
"A Boche cup's nothing special," says Pepin; "it won't stand
up, it's just lumber."
"You wait and see, maggot-snout," says Tirette, who is something of
a psychologist. "If we attack this time, same as the adjutant seemed
to hint, perhaps you'll find a Boche cup, and then it'll be
something special!"
"The adjutant may have said that," Eudore observes. "but he doesn't
know."
"It holds more than a half-pint, the Boche cup," remarks Cocon,
"seeing that the exact capacity of the half-pint is marked in the
cup three-quarters way up; and it's always good for you to have a
big one, for if you've got a cup that only just holds a half-pint,
then so that you can get your half-pint of coffee or wine or holy
water or what not, it's get to be filled right up, and they don't
ever do it at serving-out, and if they do, you spill it.
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