You were just going to hand over to some one, weren’t you?’ He sat down, breathing frostily in the chill air. I only wish there were more of it,’ he chirruped. ‘A-a little drill, sir,’ stammered Foxy, saying nothing of first causes. ‘What’s this? What’s this?’ cried the visitor authoritatively. Now, Muster Corkran, you say you know the drill? Oblige me by takin’ over the command and, reversin’ my words step by step, relegate them to their previous formation.’
The pivot-man of the wheel honly marks time, Muster Swayne. The Sergeant, leading a wheel, did not see. The gymnasium door opened, revealing M‘Turk in charge of an old gentleman. As Foxy said, they had been at it a long time. They were formed into fours, marched, wheeled, and countermarched, the spell of ordered motion strong on them. You’ve been at it long enough, goodness knows.’ If you’re lucky, most of you will ’ave to take drills ’arf your life. Now try to imagine you ain’t defaulters at all, but an ’arf company on parade, me bein’ your commandin’ officer. ‘Bet you a bob, I can drill as well as you, Foxy.’ At the same time, it is not so easy as it looks.’ ‘It would be ’ighly to your discredit if you did not, Muster Corkran. I shall be sorry when any of you resume your ’abits of punctuality.
The dumb-bells rose and fell, clashed and were returned as one. Now, leanin’ forward from the ’ips, takin’ your time from me.’ Number off from the right, in a low voice. ‘Quietly provide yourselves with the requisite dumb-bells returnin’ quietly to your place. Left, half-turn! Slow-march.’ Twenty-five sluggards, all old offenders, filed into the gymnasium. ‘You’ve had me for nearly six weeks, you old glutton. If I only ’ad you regular, Muster Corkran,’ said he, dressing the line. ‘I’d much sooner be smoking a quiet pipe in my own quarters-but I see we ’ave the Old Brigade on our ’ands this afternoon. ‘Don’t think it’s any pleasure to me’ (his introduction never varied). Foxy drilled the defaulters with all the pomp of his old parade-ground. It followed that they were often late and since every unpunctuality earned them a black mark, and since three black marks a week meant defaulters’ drill, equally it followed that they spent hours under the Sergeant’s hand. Consequently Stalky and Beetle-M‘Turk being of the offensive type that makes ornate toilet under all circumstnaces-drowsed till the last moment before turning out to call-over in the gas-lit gymnasium.
IT was winter and bitter cold of mornings.
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