"Well," said Kippy, "I got two years' service before the War. That
makes six an' a bit; and next month I shall 'ave my Mark 1919 patent
arm complete with all the latest developments and get into civvies.
Then what-o for a job o' paper-'anging."

Gunner Toady gave a slight start, but at once passed into a state of
deep reflection. After a protracted pause he delivered his mature
judgment. "'Course," he said slowly, "I believe in wot them Mahomets
call Kismet. No gettin' away from it--"

"Oo's Kismet?" interrupted Kippy.

"It's me and you gettin' mixed up so intimate over 'arf o' France and
the 'ole o' Flanders. Like two needles in a blinkin' 'aystack clickin'
every time--an' 'taint as if the Gunners dossed down reglar with the
Line either. An' now you talks about paper-'anging."

Gunner Toady paused impressively and continued, "Now you'd 'ardly
believe it, but before I joined the reg'ment in '09 I was a
master-plasterer workin' in Fulham."

"Lumme!" exclaimed Kippy, "wy, I was at Putney then, and I only 'eard
the other day that there's a nice little _apray-lar-gur_ connection
to be worked up at Walham Green. 'Ow about callin' ourselves 'Messrs.
Toady and Kippy, Decorators'?'"

"That's what it means," said the senior partner. "It's Kismet right
enough, and there ain't no gettin' away from it."