A GENTLEMAN IN THE RANKS.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume XXXXII, Issue 96, 11 May 1900, Page 4

A GENTLEMAN IN THE RANKS.

HOW HK SPOILED HIS LETTER. He was sitting with his back against a boulder, his rifle barrel resting on a stone, the stock on his knees. He was using the stock for a desk, and was writing laboriously in pencil on a crumpled half-sheet of paper. "This is devilish hard work," he said; " but I must get it done to-day. I was always a poor fist at a letter. How do you spell ' reconnaissance Trooper 943 gave him his idea of it. " That all wrong," he said. " I'm sure there isn't a 'k' in it. But it I doesn't matter. All my spelling's gone to the deuce. I never learned anything j at school, and not much since." ' Trooper 943 laughed. "Seems to me you know a lot," he said. ] "No blarney I If you don't know as much, you ought to be ashamed of yourself," Trooper 943 laughed again. He was lying on his stomach with a sharp eye towards a possible shot, A dozen other men were intent on the same business, while a couple more were looking after the horses. " They never offered me no commission," he said.

"Well, I didn't take the one they offered me, did I? I made up my mind when I was a kid I wasn't going to be a gentleman. I don't see why you should keep on sniggering. Tell me how to spell that blessed French officer's name, and shut up. I didn't see the good of being a gentleman, like a lot of chaps I knew; it didn't look like a trade that'd suit me, I did all sorts of things to harden myself; used to wrap up in a blanket and sleep on the floor instead of in bed, I daresay you think that was all tommy rot. Well, p'r'aps it was." A bullet buzzed overhead, Trooper 943 sighted and fired,

" Got him ?" " I wouldn't like to be the bloke's wife and family." " Tell toe if you see anything else. I -must get this finished." He scribbled on for a time in silence, dropped his pencil, picked it up, and rose to stretch himself.

" Get down, stoopid I" said Trooper 943,

j A second bullet buzzed, and the other's right arm dropped to his side, "Slick through the shoulder," he said, He sat down again, looking a little pale.

"Now you've bin and spoilt your 'andwriting," said 943, " Told you so. Does it 'urt?'

" No, not much. Here just sign my name at the end of that letter, will you ?" Trooper 943 signed the name in a shambling, awkward hand. Then he began to grumble again. " Just like you! The best in our little lot got a 'ole in him, Bli' me if you ain't a daisy!" i The other took the letter and j i crammed it into his pocket with his left hand.

t " Shut up," he said, " I can shoot from the left. Hallo! Look out!" | The \yere on their feet and in the saddle in a moment—all but Trooper 943, who fell to one of the twenty bullets that had spit among them. The letter writer was down again in a flash and had him across his horse. Trooper 943 laughed again, though rather feebly. " Well, you are a daisy 1" he said.

The men scattered and rode off in a sputter of bullets.

I " Drop me," said Trooper 943, " I'll be all right. You'll only git copped." I "Shut up!"

They did not get copped, but it was i a ride to be remembered all the days [of a man's life. Also, the letter was spoiled.

" You ought to have the V.C.," said 943, some hours later. " You failsaved me."

, " Did 12" said a voice from the next bed, " And you spoilt my letter, !you ungrateful beggar. You might have chosen somewhere else to bleed."* Trooper 943 grinned and tried to turn his head.

'• Pair saved me, you did," he said. " You ain't a gentleman, are you 2 Oh, no 1 "—Pall Mall Gazelle.