"We've done our share--there were four hundred sleepers left, which
makes ten journeys for each pair. If it doesn't work out it's because
some of the others have been swinging the lead behind the stacks. We've
carried our ten and aren't going to do any more."

"Why d'yer let 'em swing it on yer? It's yer own bleed'n' fault! D'yer
think I'm goin' ter stand over yer all day? Some o' you blokes is as
'elpless as a lot o' kids--yer want a wet nurse to look arter yer!"

"That's what _you're_ there for, to look after us!"

"Don't bloody well tell me what I'm there for! I know me job an' don't
want no tellin'. Get stuck into it an' don't let me 'ave any o' yer
bloody lip, else yer'll be up fur orderly room--I shan't give yer
another warnin'!"

Seeing that argument was useless, we walked away and crossed the railway
lines. My partner growled: "I 'ope I meet 'im in civvy life--I'll give
'im somethin' ter think about--I've seen better things'n what 'e is
crorlin' about in cheese!"

There were fifty or sixty sleepers left. We dawdled on our way back,
hoping that there would be enough men in front of us to clear the lot.
The officer shouted: "Come along, my lads, sharp's the word and quick's
the action! You'll be finished in a few minutes."

The khaki-clad flock straggled forward. The remaining sleepers were
loaded on to our shoulders--my partner and I received the last one. As
we carried it off a cheer was raised by the other men.