How could such fellows as these fight for honour and truth? Some of them seemed to have no sense of honour or decency. He saw presently, however, that even these, who were not by any means representative of the whole, had far higher standards than he had at first thought. They were coarse, and some times brutal, but they were kind to their pals, and would put themselves to any trouble to do another chap a good turn.
One night it was very cold, although it had been very warm during the day. They had all been drilling hard, and were dog-tired. One of the men was evidently very seedy. He complained of a sick headache, and he was shivering with the cold.
"Bit off colour, mite?" said one.
"Jist orful, Bill. Gawd, I wish I was 'ome. The graand is so —— hard too, and I'm as sore as if some one had been a-beatin' me with a big stick."
"Ere mitey, you just 'ave my blanket. I don't want it. And let me mike my old overcoat into a bit of a pillow for yer."
"You are bloomin' kind, Bill, and I don't like——"
"Oh, stow it, it's nothink. Anything you'd like, mitey?"
"No, that is——"
"Come, out with it you ——. Wot is it? Shall I fetch the doctor?"
"Ee ain't no use! besides, you'd get into a —— row if you went to him now. When I wos 'ome and like this my mother used to go to a chemist and git me some sweet spirits of nitre, and it always made me as right as a trivet. But there ain't no such —— luck 'ere."