All in It : K(1) Carries On - A Continuation of the First Hundred Thousand by Ian Hay
page 84 of 233 (36%)
page 84 of 233 (36%)
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Waddell, playing a stuffy but useful game at half, gained fifty yards
for his side by a series of judicious little kicks into touch, the spectators groaned aloud, and remarked caustically-- "This maun be a Cup-Tie, boys! They are playin' for a draw, for tae get a second gate!" Altogether a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon, both for players and spectators. And so home to tea, domesticity, and social intercourse. In this connection it may be noted that our relations with the inhabitants are of the friendliest. On the stroke of six--oh yes, we have our licensing restrictions out here too!--half a dozen kilted warriors stroll into the farm-kitchen, and mumble affably to Madame-- "Bone sworr! Beer?" France boasts one enormous advantage over Scotland. At home, you have at least to walk to the corner of the street to obtain a drink: "oot here" you can purchase beer in practically every house in a village. The French licensing laws are a thing of mystery, but the system appears roughly to be this. Either you possess a license, or you do not. If you do you may sell beer, and nothing else. If you do not, you may--or at any rate do--sell anything you like, including beer. However, we have left our friends thirsty. Their wants are supplied with cheerful alacrity, and, having been accommodated with seats round the stove, they converse with the family. Heaven only knows what they talk about, but talk they do--in the throaty unintelligible Doric of the Clydeside, with an occasional |
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