A War-Time Wooing
"You fellows are making too much noise there, and the doctor wants you to dry up."
"Tell him to send us some towels, then," growls one of the number, a black-browed, surly-looking fellow with ponderous, bent shoulders and a slouching mien. Some of his companions titter encouragingly, others are silent. The sergeant of the guard flushes angrily and turns on the speaker.
"You know very well what I mean, Rix. I'm using your own slang in speaking to you because you wouldn't comprehend decent langu