After a very rapid examination the doctor remarked:
"You won't do—varicose veins."
"Beg pardon, sir?" said Bindle.
"Varicose veins," said the doctor.
"An' 'oo's 'e when 'e's at 'ome?" enquired Bindle.
"You have got varicose veins in the legs and therefore you cannot enlist." The doctor was tired and impatient.
"But ain't you got veins in your legs?" enquired Bindle. "Why can't I be a soldier 'cos I got various veins in me legs?"
"You couldn't stand the marching," was the reply.
"Oh, couldn't I? That's all you know about it. You should see me 'oppin' in an' out of 'ouses carrying pianners an' sofas. I want to enlist." Bindle was dogged.
The doctor relented somewhat. "It's no good, my man. We cannot take you. I'm sorry."