"You blazing young fool!" said Revere, but his heart was full of
much more pleasant words.

Bobby, the Captain of a dhoni, with Private Dormer for mate,
dropped down the river on Thursday morning - the Private at the
bow, the Subaltern at the helm. The Private glared uneasily at the
Subaltern, who respected the reserve of the Private.

After six hours, Dormer paced to the stern, saluted, and said -"
Beg y' pardon, sir, but was you ever on the Durh'm Canal?"

"No," said Bobby Wick. "Come and have some tiffin."

They ate in silence. As the evening fell, Private Dormer broke
forth, speaking to himself -

"Hi was on the Durh'm Canal, jes' such a night, come next week
twelvemonth, a-trailin' of my toes in the water." He smoked and
said no more till bedtime.

The witchery of the dawn turned the gray river-reaches to purple,
gold, and opal; and it was as though the lumbering dhoni crept
across the splendours of a new heaven.

Private Dormer popped his head out of his blanket and gazed at the
glory below and around.

"Well - damn - my eyes!" said Private Dormer in an awed whisper.
"This 'ere is like a bloomin' gallantry-show!" For the rest of the
day he was dumb, but achieved an ensanguined filthiness through