“Well then, sir, if you please, as it’s the first day, it’ll be jist as well for you to look on.”
“Now, gin’lemen,” said Sergeant-Major Giblett, dismissing at once his countenance of colloquial familiarity, and assuming the “wrinkled front” of stem duty; “now, gin’lemen, if you please—we’re a-losing of time, and had better begin. I think you’re all here, with the hexception of Mr. Wildman, and he, I am given to onderstand, is ill-disposed this morning.”
At this speech one of the young hands in the squad winked to his neighbour, as much as to say, “Twig the sergeant”—he exploded with laughter; his next file gave him a jerk or dig with his elbow—he lost his balance, tumbled against his neighbour, and a general derangement of the ranks followed.
“Come, gin’lemen, gin’lemen,” said the sergeant, half angry, “this won’t do—this won’t never do; if I am to teach you your man’l and plytoon, you must be steady—you must upon my life. Come, tention,” said he, briskly squaring up, and throwing open his shoulders, as if determined to proceed to business. “Shoulder! up! Order! up! Onfix bagganets! That’s all right. Shoulder! up! That won’t do, Mr. Cobbold; you must catch her up sharper than that. Now, please to look at me, sir,” taking the musket in hand, and doing the thing secundum artem.
Another half-smothered laugh again disturbed the little sergeant’s self-complacency.
“Oh! this can’t be allowed, gin’lemen. I’ll give it up—I’ll give it up, I will indeed. I’ll report you all to the adjutant, if this here larking goes on, I will.”
This threat had a sedative effect on the disorderly rank and file, who now looked wonderfully demure, though with that mock and constrained gravity which threatened a fresh outbreak on the next elocutionary attempt of the self-important sergeant.
“Now, gin’lemen, you’ll please to observe that, when I says ‘Shoulder!’—will you look this way, Mr. Wildgoose, if you please?—when I says ‘Shoulder!’ you must each take a firm ‘grist’ (grasp) of his piece (a titter)—just here, about the middle; and when I gives the word ‘Up!’ you must chuck her up sharp. Now, then. ‘Shoulder!’ ‘Grist’ her higher, Mr. Cobbold. ‘Up!’ That’s it.”
“D——n it, Cobbold, take care what you’re at, man,” exclaimed Cobbold’s left-hand man, on getting a crack on the head from the said Cobbold’s awkward shouldering.
“Order! as you were!—What are you doing, sir? That’s not right. When I says ‘As you were,’ I means ‘As you was;’ that is, as you was afore—rewerting to your former pisishion. Right about face! That’s it. Now, gin’lemen, when I says ‘Left about face,’ you’ll please to do jist the same thing, only directly the contrary. Steady, gin’lemen, if you please—steady! Now march in file—quick march—lock-up step!”