The little Cockney was just going to utter a crushing sarcasm, the French-Canadian had taken in a perfectly stupendous breath, the Highlander was calmly tasting the flavour of his own reply, when the impending torrent was broken by the entrance of the chaplain, who wished every one a somewhat sanctimonious 'Good-day.'
'I shall read,' he said, putting on a pair of glasses, 'the latest communiqué from the front. We have done very well. The news is quite good—quite good. "This morning, on a front of three miles, after an intense artillery preparation, the Australians"'——
''OORAY!' roared the Cockney.
The glasses popped off the chaplain's startled nose, and he just managed by a brilliant bit of juggling to rescue them before they reached the floor.
'I—I,' he ventured, smiling blandly, 'am delighted at your enthusiasm, but you did not let me finish. "This morning"—um, um, ah—"three miles"—um, um, yes—"three miles, after an intense artillery preparation, the Australians"'——
''OORAY!' It was a deafening roar from the whole crowd.
'"The Australians"'——
'OORAY!'
'"The"'——
'Oo'——