"Thir Theymour Thtukeley Thahib tellth Thir Matthew Thahib about the
hilt-thwust. (What _is_ 'hilt-thwust'?) And Lubin, the thervant, ith a
_white_ thervant. Why ith he white if he ith a Thahib's 'boy'?"

"Good Gad!" murmured the Major. "I'm favoured of the gods. Tell me all
about it, Sonny. Then I'll undo this parcel for you," he coaxed.

"Oh, I don't wemember. They buck a lot by the tents and then Thir
Theymour Thtukeley goes and fights Thir Matthew and kills him, and
it'th awful lovely, but they dreth up like kids at a party in big
collars and silly kit."

"Yes, I know," murmured the Major. "Tell me what they say when they
buck to each other by the tents, and when they talk about the
'hilt-thrust,' old chap."

"Oh, I don't wemember. I'll listen next time I dweam it, and tell you.
Chucko's egg was all brown--not white like those cook brings from the
bazaar. He's a dam-thief. Open the parcel, Major Thabib. What's in
it?"

"A picture-book for you, Sonny. All sorts of jolly beasts that you'll
_shikar_ some day. You'll tell me some more about the dream to-morrow,
won't you?"

"Yeth. I'll wemember and fink, and tell you what I have finked."

Turning to Nurse Beaton, the Major whispered:--