My batman was examining it with a sorrowful face.
“You’ll ’ave to dump most of these books, Sir.”
“Oh, but surely we can get some of them down?”
“Then you’ll have to dump those boots, Sir, and that blanket. Can’t take the lot, Sir.”
It was no use to argue with him. The batman’s orders are far more law than a mandate from Brigade. The Brigadier is merely content to issue orders; batmen see that theirs are carried out. There was nothing for it but to dump the books, and I looked sadly at the considerable collection that the mails of the last fourteen days had brought.
“Have they all got to go?”
“’Fraid so, Sir.”
“What, all my pretty chickens, at one fell swoop?”
Private Warren eyed me stolidly.
“Well, Sir, I might manage two, Sir, but no more.”