TheybroughtthenewstoRevereandhegroaned“AnyonebutBobbyandIshouldn’thavecared!TheSergeant-Majorwasright。”
  “Notgoingoutthisjourney。”gaspedBobby,ashewasliftedfromthedoolie“Notgoingoutthisjourney。”Thenwithanairofsupremeconviction-“Ican’t,yousee。”
  “NotifIcandoanything!”saidtheSurgeon-Major,whohadhastenedoverfromthemesswherehehadbeendining。
  HeandtheRegimentalSurgeonfoughttogetherwithDeathforthelifeofBobbyWickTheirworkwasinterruptedbyahairyapparitioninablue-greydressing-gownwhostaredinhorroratthebedandcried-“Oh,myGawdItcan’tbe’im!”untilanindignantHospitalOrderlywhiskedhimaway。
  Ifcareofmananddesiretolivecouldhavedoneaught,BobbywouldhavebeensavedAsitwas,hemadeafightofthreedays,andtheSurgeon-Major’sbrowuncreased“We’llsavehimyet。”hesaid;andtheSurgeon,who,thoughherankedwiththeCaptain,hadaveryyouthfulheart,wentoutuponthewordandprancedjoyouslyinthemud。
  “Notgoingoutthisjourney。”whisperedBobbyWick,gallantly,attheendofthethirdday。
  “Bravo!”saidtheSurgeon-Major“That’sthewaytolookatit,Bobby。”
  AseveningfellagreyshadegatheredroundBobby’smouth,andheturnedhisfacetothetentwallwearilyTheSurgeon-Majorfrowned。
  “I’mawfullytired。”saidBobby,veryfaintly“What’stheuseofbotheringmewithmedicine?
  I~on’t-want-itLetmealone。”
  Thedesireforlifehaddeparted,andBobbywascontenttodriftawayontheeasytideofDeath。
  “It’snogood。”saidtheSurgeonMajor“Hedoesn’twanttolive。
  He’smeetingit,poorchild。”Andheblewhisnose。
  Halfamileaway,theregimentalbandwasplayingtheoverturetotheSing。
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  241
  song,forthemenhadbeentoldthatBobbywasoutofdanger。
  TheclashofthebrassandthewailofthehornsreachedBobby’sears。
  Isthereasinglejoyorpain,ThatIshouldneverkno~ow?
  Youdonot~oveme,’tisinvain,Bidmegood-byeandgo!
  Anexpressionofhopelessirritationcrossedtheboy’sface,andhetriedtoshakehishead。
  TheSurgeon-Majorbentdown-“Whatisit?Bobby?”-“Notthatwaltz。”mutteredBobby。
  “That’sourown-ourveryownestown。
  Mummydear。”
  Withthishesankintothestuporthatgaveplacetodeathearlynextmorning。
  Revere,hiseyesredattherimsandhisnoseverywhite,wentintoBobby’stenttowritealettertoPapaWickwhichshouldbowthewhiteheadoftheex-CommissionerofChota-BuldanainthekeenestsorrowofhislifeBobby’slittlestoreofpaperslayinconfusiononthetable,andamongthemahalf-finishedletterThelastsentenceran:
  “Soyousee,darling,thereisreallynofear,becauseaslongasI
  knowyoucareformeandIcareforyou,nothingcantouchme。”
  ReverestayedinthetentforanhourWhenhecameout,hiseyeswereredderthanever。
  PrivateConklinsatonaturned-downbucket,andlistenedtoanotunfamiliartunePrivateConklinwasaconvalescentandshouldhavebeentenderlytreated。
  “Ho!”saidPrivateConklin“There’sanotherbloomin’orf’cerda~d。”
  Thebucketshotfromunderhim,andhiseyesfilledwithasmithyfulofsparksAtallmaninablue-greybedgownwasregardinghimwithdeepdisfavor。
  “Yououghttotakeshameforyourself,Conky!Orf’cer?-bloomin’
  orf’cer?I’lllearnyoutomisnamethelikesof’imHangel!Bloomin’Hangel!That’swot’eis!”
  AndtheHospitalOrderlywassosatisfiedwiththejusticeofthepunishmentthathedidnotevenorderPrivateDormerbacktohiscot。
  IntheMatterofaPrivateHurrah!hurrah!asoldier’slifeforme!Shout,boys,shout!foritmakesyoujollyandfree-
  TheRamrodCorps。
  PEOPLEwhohaveseen,saythatoneofthequaintestspectaclesofhumanfrailtyisanoutbreakofhystericsinagirls’schoolItstartswithoutwarning,generallyonahotafternoonamongtheelderpupilsAgirlgigglestillthegigglegetsbeyondcontrol。
  Thenshethrowsupherhead,andcries,“Honk,honk,honk。”likeawildgoose,andtearsmixwiththelaughterIfthen,istresbewiseshewillrapoutsometl~ngsevercatthispoint0checkmattersIfshebetender-hearted,andsendforadrinkofwater,thechancesarelargelyini42
  WORKSOFRUDYARDKIPLING
  favorofanothergirllaughingattheafflictedoneandherselfcollapsingThusLhetroublespreads,andmayendinhalfofwhatanswerstotheLowerSixthofaboys’schoolrockingandwhoopingtogetherGivenaweekofwarmweather,twostatelypromenadesperdiem,aheavymuttonandricemealinthemiddleoftheday,acertainamountofnaggingfromtheteachers,andafewotherthings,someamazingeffectsdevelopAtleastthisiswhatfolksaywhohavehadexperience。
  Now,theMotherSuperiorofaConventandtheColonelofaBritishInfantryRegimentwouldbejustlyshockedatanycomparisonbeingmadebetweentheirrespectivechargesButitisafactthat,undercertaincircumstances,Thomasinbulkcanbeworkedupintoditthering,ripplinghysteriaHedoesnotweep,butheshowshistroubleunmistakably,andtheconsequencesgetintothenewspapers,andallthegoodpeoplewhohardlyknowaMartinifrom~Snidersay:
  “Takeawaythebrute’sammunition!”
  Thomasisn’tabrute,andhisbusiness,whichistolookafterthevirtuouspeople,nemandsthatheshallhavehisam-munitiontohishandHedoesn’twearsilkstockings,andhereallyoughttohesuppliedwithanewAdjectivetohelphimtoexpresshisopinions;but,forallthat,heisagreatmanIfyoucallhim“theheroicdefenderofthenationalhonor“oneday,and“abrutalandlicentioussoldiery“thenext,younaturallybewilderhim,andhelooksuponyouwithsuspicion。
  ThereisnobodytospeakforThomasexceptpeoplewhohavetheoriestoworkoffonhim;andnobodyunderstandsThomasexceptThomas,andhedoesnotalwayskno~whatisthematterwithhimself。
  ThatistheprologueThisisthestory:
  CorporalSlanewasengagedtobemarriedtoMissJhansiM’Kenna,whosehistoryiswellknownintheregimentandelsewhereHehadhisColonel’spermission,and,beingpopularwiththemen,everyarrangementhadbeenmadetogivetheweddingwhatPrivateOrtheriscalled“eeklar。”Itfellintheheartofthehotweather,and,afterthewedding,SlanewasgoinguptotheHillswiththeBrideNonetheless,Slane’sgrievancewasthattheaffairwouldheonlyahired-carriagewedding,andhefeltthatthe“eeklar“ofthatwasmeagreMissM’KennadidnotcaresomuchTheSergeant’swifewashelpinghertomakeherwedding-dress,andshewasverybusySlanewas,justthen,theonlymoderatelycontentedmaninbarracksAlltherestweremoreorlessmiserable。
  Andtheyhadsomuchtomakethemhappy,tooAlltheirworkwasoverateightinthemorning,andfortherestofthedaytheycouldlieontheirbacksandsmokeCanteen-plugandswearatthepunkab-cooliesTheyenjoyedafine,fullfleshmealinthemiddleoftheday,andthenthrewthemselvesdownontheircot~andsweatedandslepttillitwascoolenoughtogooutwiththeir“towny。”whosevocabularycontainedlessthansixhundredwords,andtheAdjective,andwhoseviewsoneveryconceivablequestiontheyhadheardmanytimesbefore。
  TherewastheCanteen,ofcourse,andtherewastheTemperanceRoomwiththesecond-handpapersinit;butINThEMATTEROFAPRIVATE
  243
  amanofanyprofessioncannotreadforeighthoursadayinatemperatureof960or980intheshade,runningupsometimesto1030atmidnightVeryfewmen,eventhoughtheygetapannikinofflat,stale,muddybeerandhideitundertheircots,cancontinuedrinkmgforsixhoursadayOnemantried,buthedied,andnearlythewholeregimentwenttohisfuneralbecauseitgavethemsomethingtodoItwastooearlyfortheexcitementoffeverorcholera。
  Themencouldonlywaitandwaitandwait,andwatchtheshadowofthebarrackcreepingacrosstheblindingwhitedustThatwasagaylife。
  Theyloungedaboutcantonments-itwastoohotforanysortofgame,andalmosttoohotforvice-andfuddledthemselvesintheevening,andfilledthemselvestodistensionwiththehealthynitrogenousfoodprovidedforthem,andthemoretheystokedthelessexercisetheytookandmoreexplosivetheygrewThentempersbegantowearaway,andmenfella-broodingoverinsultsrealorimaginary,fortheyhadnothingelsetothinkofThetoneofthereparteeschanged,andinsteadofsayinglight-heartedly:“I’llknockyoursillyfacein。”mengrewlaboriouslyp0liteandhintedthatthecantonmentswerenotbigenoughforthemselvesandtheirenemy,andthattherewouldhemorespaceforoneofthetwoinanotherplace。
  ItmayhavebeentheDevilwhoarrangedthething,butthefactof,hecaseisthatLossonhadforalongtimebeenworryingSimmonsinanaimlesswayItgavehimoccupationThetwohadtheircotssidebyside,andwouldsometimesspendalongafternoonswearingateachother;butSimmonswasafraidofLossonanddarednotchallengehimtoafightHethoughtoverthewordsinthehotstillnights,andhalfthehatehefelttowardLossonbeventedonthewretchedpunkahcoolie。
  Lossonboughtaparrotinthebazar,andputitintoalittlecage,andloweredthecageintothecooldarknessofawell,andsatonthewell-curb,shoutingbadlanguagedowntotheparrotHetaughtittosay:“Simmons,yeso-oor。”whichmeansswine,andseveralotherthingsentirelyunfitforpublicationHewasabiggrossman,andheshooklikeajellywhentheparrothadthesentencecorrectlySimmons,however,shookwithrage,foralltheroomwerelaughingathim-theparrotwassuchadisreputablepuffofgreenfeathersanditlookedsohumanwhenitchatteredLossonusedtosit,swinginghisfatlegs,onthesideofthecot,andasktheparrotwhatitthoughtofSimmonsTheparrotwouldanswer:
  “Simmons,yeso-oor。”“Goodboy。”Lossonusedtosay,scratchingtheparrot’shead;“ye’earthat,Sim?”AndSimmonsusedtoturnoveronhisstomachandmakeanswer:“I’earTake’eedyoudon’t’earsomethingoneofthesedays。”
  Intherestlessnights,afterhehadbeenasleepallday,fitsofblindragecameuponSimmonrandheldhimtillhetrembledallover,whilehethoughtinhowmanydifferentwayshewouldslayLossonSometimeshewouldpicturehimselftramplingthelifeoutoftheman,withheavyammunition-boots,andatotherssmashinginhisfacewith244
  WORKSOFRUDYARDKiPLING
  thebutt,andatoth~r~jumpingonhisshouldersanddraggingtheheadbacktillthenecKbonecrackedThenhismouthwouldfeelhotandfevered,andhewouldreachoutforanothersupofthebeerintuepannikin。
  ButthefancythatcametohimmostfrequentlyandstayedwithhimlongestwasoneconnectedwiththegreatrolloffatunderLosson’srightearHenoticeditfirstonamoonlightnight,andthereafteritwasalwaysbeforehiseyesItwasafascinatingrolloffatAmancouldgethishanduponitandtearawayonesideoftheneck;orhecouldplacethemuzzleofarifleonitandblowawayalltheheadinaflashLossonhadnorighttobesleekandcontentedandwell-to-do,whenhe,Simmons,wasthebuttoftheroom,Someday,perhaps,hewouldshowthosewholaughedatthe“Simmons,yeso-oor“joke,thathewasasgoodastherest,andheldaman’slifeinthecrookofhisforefingerWhenLossonsnored,SimmonshatedhimmorebitterlythaneverWhyshouldLossonbeabletosleepwhenSimmonshadtostayawakehourafterhour,tossingandturningonthetapes,withthedullliverpaingnawingintohisrightsideandhisheadthrobbingandachingafterCanteen?Hethoughtoverthisformanynights,andtheworldbecameunprofitabletohimHeevenbluntedhisnaturallyfineappetitewithbeerandtobacco;andallthewhiletheparrottalkedatandmadeamockofhim。
  TheheatcontinuedandthetempersworeawaymorequicklythanbeforeASergeant’swifediedofheat-apoplexyinthenight,andtherumorranabroadthatitwascholeraMenrejoicedopenly,hopingthatitwouldspreadandsendthemintocamp。
  Butthatwasafalsealarm。
  ItwaslateonaTuesdayevening,andthemenwerewaitinginthedeepdoubleverandasfor“LastPosts。”whenSimmonswenttotheboxatthefootofhisbed,tookauthispipe,andslammedtheliddownwithabangthatechoedthroughthedesertedbarracklikethecrackofarifleOrdinarilyspeaking,themenwouldhavetakennonotice;
  buttheirnerveswerefrettedtofiddle-stringsTheyjumpedup,andthreeorfourclatteredintothebarrack-roomonlytofindSimmonskneelingbyhisbox。
  “OwlIt’syou,isit?”theysaidandlaughedfoolishly“Weth0ught’twas“-SimmonsroseslowlyIfth~accidenthadsoshakenhisfellows,whatwouldnottherealitydo?
  “Youthoughtitwas-didyou?Andwhatmakesyouthink?”hesaid,iashmghimselfintomadnessashewenton;“toHellwithyourthinking,yedirtyspies。”
  “Simmons,yeso-oor。”chuckledtheparrotintheveranda,sleepily,recognizingawell-knownvoiceNowthatwasabsolutelyall。
  ThetensionsnappedSimmonsfellbackonthearm-rackdeliberately,-themenwereatthefarendoftheroom,-andtookouthisrifleandpacketofammunition。
  “Don’tgo~layingthegoat,Sim!”saidLosson“Putitdown。”buttherewasaquaverinhisvoiceAnothermanstooped,slippedhisbootandhurleditatSimmon’sheadThepromptanswerwasashotINThEMATTEROFAPRIVATE