there was I, though not daring to move a' eyebrow in the presence of
Majesty. I have come home on a night's leave--off there again to-
morrow. Boney's expected every day, the Lord be praised! Yes, our
hopes are to be fulfilled soon, as we say in the army.

OLD MAN

There, there, Cantle; don't ye speak quite so large, and stand
so over-upright. Your back is as holler as a fire-dog's. Do ye
suppose that we on active service here don't know war news? Mind
you don't go taking to your heels when the next alarm comes, as you
did at last year's.

PRIVATE

That had nothing to do with fighting, for I'm as bold as a lion when
I'm up, and "Shoulder Fawlocks!" sounds as common as my own name to
me. 'Twas--- [lowering his voice.] Have ye heard?

OLD MAN

To be sure we have.

PRIVATE

Ghastly, isn't it!

OLD MAN

Ghastly! Frightful!

YOUNG MAN [to Private]

He don't know what it is! That's his pride and puffery. What is it
that' so ghastly--hey?

PRIVATE

Well, there, I can't tell it. 'Twas that that made the whole eighty
of our company run away--though we be the bravest of the brave in
natural jeopardies, or the little boys wouldn't run after us and
call us and call us the "Bang-up-Locals."

WOMAN [in undertones]

I can tell you a word or two on't. It is about His victuals. They
say that He lives upon human flesh, and has rashers o' baby every
morning for breakfast--for all the world like the Cernal Giant in
old ancient times!

YOUNG MAN

Ye can't believe all ye hear.

PRIVATE

I only believe half. And I only own--such is my challengeful
character--that perhaps He do eat pagan infants when He's in the
desert. But not Christian ones at home. Oh no--'tis too much.

WOMAN

Whether or no, I sometimes--God forgive me!--laugh wi' horror at
the queerness o't, till I am that weak I can hardly go round the
house. He should have the washing of 'em a few times; I warrant
'a wouldn't want to eat babies any more!

[A silence, during which they gaze around at the dark dome of the
starless sky.]

YOUNG MAN

There'll be a change in the weather soon, by the look o't. I can
hear the cows moo in Froom Valley as if I were close to 'em, and
the lantern at Max Turnpike is shining quite plain.

OLD MAN

Well, come in and taste a drop o' sommat we've got here, that wi