“Well, but Granfer,” said Polly doubtfully, “d’ye think the Queen did mean soldiers as had—as had left off practising so long as you?”
“An’ besides,” put in Annie quickly, “’tisn’t same as if you was ever a regular soldier in barracks an’ that. Ye did only go out wi’ the Yeomanry, didn’t ye?”
“Well,” returned her father, indignantly, “an’ will ’ee go for to tell I as a man as was twenty year a trooper in the Darset Yeomanry bain’t a soldier? Why, what else be he then? Ye be a voolish maid, my dear, very voolish!”
“Well, but,” gasped poor Mrs. Sampson, recovering her breath at last, “’tis thirty year an’ more, I’m sure, since ye did go out wi’ ’em! Ah! I’m sure ’tis thirty year—’twas when poor Harry was a baby as ye did give up, ’an long afore Polly was born.”
“Now I tell ’ee what, Missus, this here kind o’ talk isn’t the talk for them as loves Queen an’ Country. What do the papers say? Read for yourself an’ see. If every old soldier in the country was to go makin’ excuses, an’ thinkin’ this, that, an’ t’other, who’s to defend England? Now, I’m a old man, an’ a bit stiff in the j’ints, an’ a bit heavy on my legs, but I can get on a harse, and pull a trigger yet. An’ I’m not the man to go and disapp’int the Queen! There, my mind be made up, an’ ye may tark till midnight wi’out changin’ it.”
“Well, to be sure,” said poor Grandma, dropping into a chair, “I must say as I didn’t think as I should live to see this day. When a body comes to your time o’ life I didn’t look for ye to be tarkin’ o’ goin’ off to the war, jist at our busiest time o’ year, too, when we may be lookin’ out for new calves any day, an’ the lambin’ season not half over!”
“’Tis a bit a’k’ard that, I must agree,” returned Sampson, his face falling as he spoke. “Ah, I could ha’ wished as Her Majesty hadn’t a-called upon us in the midst o’ lambin’ time. We must do the best we can, that’s all. Tom must see to things. I d’ ’low other folks find it jist so hard to leave their business. But when ye come to tarkin’ o’ my years, Missus, you do make a mistake. ’Tis my years as makes my services valuable. Now, Annie, read what’s wrote here about the men comin’ up.”
Annie dolorously found the place, and read how already the response throughout the country had been unanimous, and how men were turning up by hundreds at various military depots to offer their services.
“Ah,” commented Granfer, reflectively; “‘the nearest military deepotts’—let me see, ours ’ud be Blanchester, I suppose. Well, Missus, make up your mind to it, I’ll be off to-morrow. When a thing must be done, it must be done.”
Mrs. Sampson threw her apron over her head, and began to weep; Polly sniffed ominously, the children wailed, and Annie, flinging her arms round her father’s neck besought him to think better of it.