"That may be," he said, "but I got a strong affection for the trade, Sir, a
very strong affection, and I can't 'elp feeling it. Why, rightly speaking,
it was the fruit trade what got me my D.C.M."

"Did it though? How was that?"

"Well, it was like this. I bin callin' fruit a good many years. I could
call fruit with anyone. When I calls ''Oo sez a blood orange?' at
Kennington Lane, you could 'ear it pretty well as far as New Cross. Same
with ''Ave a banana?' If you're to do the trade you must make the people
'ear. It ain't no good bein' like them chaps what stands in the gutter and
whispers, 'Umberella ring a penny,' to their boots."

"But what about the D.C.M.?"

"I'm comin' to it, Sir. You see, I got it in connection with a little bit
o' work Trones Wood way. Through various circs, fault o' nobody really, me
and Sam Corney found ourselves alone alongside a dug-out full o' Bosches.
If we'd 'ad a few bombs we'd 'a' bin all right, but we 'adn't. I sez to
Sam, 'We must scare 'em,' I sez, and I shouts, '_'Oo says a blood orange?_'
at the top o' my voice into the dug-out, which was dark, of course, and I
stands in the doorway with my bayonet ready. I can't say what they mistook
it for. Crack o' doom, Sam sez. But eight come out o' that dug-out with
their 'ands up. I sent Sam off 'ome with 'em, though they'd 'a' gone with
no escort at all, I reckon, bein' sort o' stunned. And I went on down the
trench.

"At the turn there was another dug-out. '_'Ave a banana?_' I yells, and out
come ten of 'em, cryin' for mercy. I took 'em back to what we calls