A Board School corps was
moving off the ground, headed by its drums and fifes, which it assisted
with song. As we drew nearer we caught the words, for they were launched
with intention:--
'Oo is it mashes the country nurse?
The Guardsman!
'Oo is it takes the lydy's purse?
The Guardsman!
Calls for a drink, and a mild cigar,
Batters a sovereign down on the bar,
Collars the change and says "Ta-ta!"
The Guardsman!
"Why, that's one of old Jemmy Fawne's songs. I haven't heard it in ages,"
I began.
"Little devils!" said Pigeon.
"Speshul! Extra speshul! Sports Edition!" a newsboy cried. "'Ere y'are,
Captain. Defeat o' the Guard!"
"I'll buy a copy," said the Boy, as Pigeon blushed wrathfully. "I must, to
see how the Dove lost his mounted company." He unfolded the flapping sheet
and we crowded round it.
"'_Complete Rout of the Guard,_'" he read. "'_Too Narrow a Front._' That's
one for you, Vee! '_Attack Anticipated by Mr. Levitt, B. A._' Aha! '_The
Schools Stand Fast._'"
"Here's another version," said Kyd, waving a tinted sheet. "'_To your
tents, O Israel! The Hebrew Schools stop the Mounted Troops._' Pij, were
you scuppered by Jewboys?"
"'_Umpires Decide all Four Guns Lost,_'" Bayley went on. "By Jove,
there'll have to be an inquiry into this regrettable incident, Vee!"
"I'll never try to amuse the kids again," said the baited Verschoyle.
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