CHAPTER II
Then we brought the lances down, then the bugles blew,
When we went to Kandahar, ridin' two an' two,
Ridin', ridin', ridin', two an' two,
Ta-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra,
All the way to Kandahar, ridin' two an' two.
'I'm not angry with the British public, but I wish we had a few thousand of them scattered among these rocks. They wouldn't be in such a hurry to get at their morning papers then. Can't you imagine the regulation householder—Lover of Justice, Constant Reader, Paterfamilias, and all that lot—frizzling on hot gravel?'
'With a blue veil over his head, and his clothes in strips. Has any man here a needle? I've got a piece of sugar-sack.'
'I'll lend you a packing-needle for six square inches of it then. Both my knees are worn through.'
'Why not six square acres, while you're about it?
