“Oh, them wars.”
“The wars?”
“Aye, keep to the wars! Give me the Old Testament for choice. There’s more taste to it, to my mind. When parson comes he wants to get off to something else; but it’s Joshua or nothing with me. Them Israelites was good soldiers—good growed soldiers, all of ’em.”
“But, uncle,” pleaded Norah, “it’s all peace in the next world.”
“No, it ain’t, gal.”
“Oh, yes, uncle, surely!”
The old corporal knocked his stick irritably upon the ground. “I tell ye it ain’t, gal. I asked parson.”
“Well, what did he say?”
“He said there was to be a last fight. He even gave it a name, he did. The battle of Arm—Arm——”
“Armageddon.”