so-called. But there were always hymns, and Irralie was never absent from the piano. She was certainly not a good performer; but she could play a hymn, and lead it, too, with a voice not free from possibilities. She was also a great favorite with the men.
On the night of the knife accident, however, the men's hut sent a contingent without numerical precedent. And the attraction, of course, was the new chum-owner with the blooming handle to his blooming name. Such of the men, indeed, as had already seen him, described the hut as the "proper blooming place for 'im—if you jokers could suffer the cove." Others, who had yet to behold him at short range, and who came to service for that purpose alone, were punished by a complete take-in.
"That the cove?" said one. "Why, 'e's a bloomin' toff like all the rest o' them new chummies. Wot were yer givin' us?"
"Blowed if he hasn't been and dressed himself up! Hardly knew him myself; looks a fine chap now, eh, don't 'e?"
