"I put it to her this way at last. 'See 'ere, Ladybird,' I sez, ''is Majesty, the Bara Raj, 'e finds 'e can't do without me sword-arm in a tamasha agoin' on agin a low-down lot o' soowar ke bachars called Bosches,' I says. 'The British Raj 'e sends a chit for Private Cobb to come along and give 'im a 'and, so naturally I replies, "Anything to oblige." Now, 'ow could you expect me to do 'im down after that?' I sez. 'Them Bosches, they've been eatin' babies and boilin' the Raj's own Aunties in oil," I sez. That kind o' soothed 'er and she begins to see I'd 'ave to go. 'You not come back,' she says. ''Course I come back,' I sez (for you know 'ow one 'as to work wiv wimmin) 'I come back with a necklace o' Boschy teeth,' I sez, 'and you can wear it on the next bara din to the Daggone. That took 'er fancy some but, would you believe it, she didn't swaller me all at once. 'You not remember me, 'ome," says she, 'you buljao.' 'Never, on your life!' I tells 'er, 'you ain't the sort a man forgits easy.'
"The next time I sees 'er she brings me the fags, all wrapped up in oilskin and air-tight in a little tin. She got me to promise I'd smoke 'em when I were 'ome to keep me from forgittin' 'ow I was to come back. They ain't the three-rupee a 'undred kind as you can smell a mile neither."
"The day the orders was 'eard definite I was a-wanderin' round the wharf takin' a look at the ship wot was to land the troops Gawd knowed where, when I seed someone a-hailin' me from a sampan on the river. It was jes' after them sampans 'ad been put out o' bounds because of them two blasted Crusoes in B. Company wot 'ad drowned themselves axidentally foolin' round in one. And they bein' a disgrace to the regiment in not knowin' ow to swim, to my thinkin'."
"S wimmin' don't 'elp none in that river, bless you!" said the Philosopher. "No man ain't never saved 'oo tries divin' stunts in that current."
"Well, you listen," said the Optimist. "I looked 'ard and I seed that the sampan was full o' fruit, and on top o' the fruit, perky as Charley's Aunt, was that little yeller lungi seated. 'Course I answered the wave o' 'er 'and, when the sampan gits near the wharf she pointed at the fruit and then to me. She'd collected it from all over the shop for me to 'ave on my journey."
"You never giv us none," said the Pessimist.
"You'll hear why," replied the speaker. "No one could 'a exactly told wot 'appened after that, but there was a barge comin' down stream, between the jetty and the sampan, and a steam-launch comin' up opposite. The barge got in the way of me view fust and then everyone 'eard a shout and the barge let out over its far end with ropes, and then the sampan swept past 'er with a chunk missin' and a speck of yeller 'angin' on, while the fruit was floatin' about on top of the water."
"Gawd!" remarked the Pessimist. "Did they git 'er?"
The narrator paused. "Some men in a boat comin' up-stream lugged 'er in," he said. "The man wot was rowin' the sampan 'ad gone down, and so, o' course, they knew they needn't expect 'im up again inside a week, and then it would be some miles along the river. But they got the little gal ashore and took 'er to the 'ospital. 'Er 'air was 'angin' down and 'er little face was the colour of the inside of a banana, and 'er silk lungi all tore and stained green."
"What did you do?" asked the Philosopher.