J. S. MACHAR
From the corridor could be heard the voice of Kranz, the president of the orderlies, singing:
In fernem Afrika
da wächst der Paprika.—
Papritz turned pale and red, but did not burst out. He threatened and yelled for a little longer, then he departed.
"He's still soaked from yesterday", observed Hedrich. Mr. Lamm put his straw hat on afresh.
"I shan't report myself to him" the sergeant began to declare.
"It's a piece of impudence" said Mr. Fröhlich reminiscently. "Somebody ought to have pointed out to him that we're brought to attention only before officers, and that he as an N. C. O. in charge of accounts has no right to wear an officer's sword."
"And besides, he's got no right to carry out inspections and to make such threats" added the sergeant. And Mr. Fels felt sorry for Lamm. He took him by the arm and led him up to my bed.
"Mr. M., yesterday you set us up and encouraged us so much, look after Mr. Lamm here, tell him something."
"Take off your hat, remove your overcoat, hang it up yonder and try to make yourself at home,—you'll be here several months."
Mr. Lamm looked at me horrified, he took off his overcoat rather waveringly, removed his hat and sat down.
"That's right", remarked Mr. Fels. "And what about our marching?"
There was nothing else for it, we started off.
We walked silently. Warder Sponner came in, called out several names, Tironi and Dr. Smrecsanyi amongst them: "Take your things and come up to the first floor." They had been transferred.
They took their leave and departed.
We went on walking.
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