Phyllis's was good enough after musketry practice at
Mozambique. I couldn't get off the first two or three nights on account of
what you might call an imbroglio with our Torpedo Lieutenant in the
submerged flat, where some pride of the West country had sugared up a
gyroscope; but I remember Vickery went ashore with our Carpenter Rigdon--
old Crocus we called him. As a general rule Crocus never left 'is ship
unless an' until he was 'oisted out with a winch, but _when_ 'e went 'e
would return noddin' like a lily gemmed with dew. We smothered him down
below that night, but the things 'e said about Vickery as a fittin'
playmate for a Warrant Officer of 'is cubic capacity, before we got him
quiet, was what I should call pointed."
"I've been with Crocus--in the _Redoubtable_," said the Sergeant. "He's a
character if there is one."
"Next night I went into Cape Town with Dawson and Pratt; but just at the
door of the Circus I came across Vickery. 'Oh!' he says, 'you're the man
I'm looking for. Come and sit next me. This way to the shillin' places!'
I went astern at once, protestin' because tickey seats better suited my
so-called finances. 'Come on,' says Vickery, 'I'm payin'.' Naturally I
abandoned Pratt and Dawson in anticipation o' drinks to match the seats.
'No,' he says, when this was 'inted--'not now. Not now. As many as you
please afterwards, but I want you sober for the occasion.
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