"
Private Simmons had occupied a strong position near a well on the edge
of the parade-ground, and was defying the regiment to come on.
Private Simmons had occupied a strong position near a well on the edge
of the parade-ground, and was defying the regiment to come on.
Kipling - Poems
Come
out and see me practiss on the rainge. I'm the crack shot of the 'ole
bloomin' battalion. " In proof of which statement Simmons fired at the
lighted windows of the mess-house.
"Private Simmons, E Comp'ny, on the Cavalry p'rade-ground, Sir, with
thirty rounds," said a Sergeant breathlessly to the Colonel. "Shootin'
right and lef', Sir. Shot Private Losson. What's to be done, Sir? "
Colonel John Anthony Deever, C. B. , sallied out, only to be saluted by s
spurt of dust at his feet.
"Pull up! " said the Second in Command; "I don't want my step in that
way, Colonel. He's as dangerous as a mad dog. "
"Shoot him like one, then," said the Colonel, bitterly, "if he won't
take his chance, My regiment, too! If it had been the Towheads I could
have under stood.
"
Private Simmons had occupied a strong position near a well on the edge
of the parade-ground, and was defying the regiment to come on. The
regiment was not anxious to comply, for there is small honor in being
shot by a fellow-private. Only Corporal Slane, rifle in band, threw
himself down on the ground, and wormed his way toward the well.
"Don't shoot," said he to the men round him; "like as not you'll hit me.
I'll catch the beggar, livin'. "
Simmons ceased shouting for a while, and the noise of trap-wheels could
be heard across the plain. Major Oldyn, commanding the Horse Battery,
was coming back from a dinner in the Civil Lines; was driving after his
usual custom--that is to say, as fast as the horse could go.
"A orf'cer! A blooming spangled orf'cer," shrieked Simmons; "I'll make a
scarecrow of that orf'cer! " The trap stopped.
"What's this? " demanded the Major of Gunners. "You there, drop your
rifle. "
"Why, it's Jerry Blazes! I ain't got no quarrel with you, Jerry Blazes.
Pass frien', an' all's well!
out and see me practiss on the rainge. I'm the crack shot of the 'ole
bloomin' battalion. " In proof of which statement Simmons fired at the
lighted windows of the mess-house.
"Private Simmons, E Comp'ny, on the Cavalry p'rade-ground, Sir, with
thirty rounds," said a Sergeant breathlessly to the Colonel. "Shootin'
right and lef', Sir. Shot Private Losson. What's to be done, Sir? "
Colonel John Anthony Deever, C. B. , sallied out, only to be saluted by s
spurt of dust at his feet.
"Pull up! " said the Second in Command; "I don't want my step in that
way, Colonel. He's as dangerous as a mad dog. "
"Shoot him like one, then," said the Colonel, bitterly, "if he won't
take his chance, My regiment, too! If it had been the Towheads I could
have under stood.
"
Private Simmons had occupied a strong position near a well on the edge
of the parade-ground, and was defying the regiment to come on. The
regiment was not anxious to comply, for there is small honor in being
shot by a fellow-private. Only Corporal Slane, rifle in band, threw
himself down on the ground, and wormed his way toward the well.
"Don't shoot," said he to the men round him; "like as not you'll hit me.
I'll catch the beggar, livin'. "
Simmons ceased shouting for a while, and the noise of trap-wheels could
be heard across the plain. Major Oldyn, commanding the Horse Battery,
was coming back from a dinner in the Civil Lines; was driving after his
usual custom--that is to say, as fast as the horse could go.
"A orf'cer! A blooming spangled orf'cer," shrieked Simmons; "I'll make a
scarecrow of that orf'cer! " The trap stopped.
"What's this? " demanded the Major of Gunners. "You there, drop your
rifle. "
"Why, it's Jerry Blazes! I ain't got no quarrel with you, Jerry Blazes.
Pass frien', an' all's well!
