FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131  
132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   >>   >|  
so previous, please. I'm taking this drill. Left, half--turn! Slow--march." Twenty-five sluggards, all old offenders, filed into the gymnasium. "Quietly provide yourselves with the requisite dumb-bells; returnin' quietly to your place. Number off from the right, in a low voice. Odd numbers one pace to the front. Even numbers stand fast. Now, leanin' forward from the 'ips, takin' your time from me." The dumb-bells rose and fell, clashed and were returned as one. The boys were experts at the weary game. "Ve-ry good. I shall be sorry when any of you resume your 'abits of punctuality. Quietly return dumb-bells. We will now try some simple drill." "Ugh! I know that simple drill." "It would he 'ighly to your discredit if you did not, Muster Corkran. _At_ the same time, it is not so easy as it looks." "Bet you a bob, I can drill as well as you, Foxy." "We'll see later. Now try to imagine you ain't defaulters at all, but an 'arf company on parade, me bein' your commandin' officer. There's no call to laugh. If you're lucky, most of you will 'ave to take drills 'arf your life. Do me a little credit. You've been at it long enough, goodness knows." They were formed into fours, marched, wheeled, and countermarched, the spell of ordered motion strong on them. As Foxy said, they had been at it a long time. The gymnasium door opened, revealing McTurk in charge of an old gentleman. The Sergeant, leading a wheel, did not see. "Not so bad," he murmured. "Not 'arf so bad. The pivot-man of the wheel _honly_ marks time, Muster Swayne. Now, Muster Corkran, you say you know the drill? Oblige me by takin' over the command and, reversin' my words step by step, relegate them to their previous formation." "What's this? What's this?" cried the visitor authoritatively. "A--a little drill, sir," stammered Foxy, saying nothing of first causes. "Excellent--excellent. I only wish there were more of it," he chirruped. "Don't let me interrupt. You were just going to hand over to someone, weren't you?" He sat down, breathing frostily in the chill air. "I shall muck it. I know I shall," whispered Stalky uneasily; and his discomfort was not lightened by a murmur from the rear rank that the old gentleman was General Collinson, a member of the College Board of Council. "Eh--what?" said Foxy. "Collinson, K.C.B.--He commanded the Pompadours-my father's old regiment," hissed Swayne major. "Take your time," said the visitor. "
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   107   108   109   110   111   112   113   114   115   116   117   118   119   120   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131  
132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
Muster
 

visitor

 

simple

 

Swayne

 

Corkran

 
gentleman
 
Collinson
 

Quietly

 
gymnasium
 

previous


numbers

 

relegate

 
strong
 

countermarched

 
wheeled
 

ordered

 
motion
 
formation
 

Sergeant

 

charge


leading

 

murmured

 

McTurk

 

revealing

 

command

 

opened

 

Oblige

 

reversin

 

murmur

 

General


College

 
member
 

lightened

 

discomfort

 

whispered

 
Stalky
 

uneasily

 
Council
 

regiment

 
father

hissed
 

Pompadours

 
commanded
 
Excellent
 

excellent

 

marched

 
authoritatively
 

stammered

 
chirruped
 

breathing