damn stuff off, you fatheaded idiots.” He fell heavily into a Johnson hole, and became temporarily winded.
From all directions men were emerging with helmets on, thinking a new form of gas had been evolved by the Hun. A neighbouring doctor, seeing the General in a recumbent position, rushed up to render assistance, while two staff officers, assisted by the Major, made gingerly dabs at the old gentleman with handkerchiefs.
At last it was over. The cork plucked from his eye, he arose and in splendid isolation confronted us. After swallowing hard once or twice, he spoke.
“I do not know if this was a jest.” His voice was hoarse. “My eye-glass is broken, the sight of my other eye irreparably damaged. I am now going to Corps Headquarters, and provided the Corps Commander can sit in the same room with that cursed woman’s fifty million stinking bacilli, I propose to ask him to let you try them at once on the Germans.”
Amidst a solemn hush he departed—with two staff officers at a discreet distance. I gather that the spectacle of their departure
