"To lie in the earth while the worms crawl and bite me. I can't say I like the idea, Doggie. And when they've finished, I won't be exactly nice for the Last Parade."
"I've a friend outside, sir, waiting, sort of angel, knows all about it. Will you see him?"
"Three days, Doggie, since I shaved my chin, or brushed my whiskers. I've had men flogged for less, much less."
"Draw the sheet up to your mouth, sir. There, you look fine. Storm!"
Storm knelt beside him.
"Oh, it's you!" said the old man. "But, Doggie, this is the fellow I sent to fetch you. He doesn't know a platoon from a quarter guard."
"I don't," said Storm cheerily, "but I use worm for bait."
"Hoo! What a despicable way of fishing."
"No flies," the Colonel's son explained.
"If a worm wanted," said Storm, "to eat me, and if he was old Boneyparte himself, he'd need to run like a jack rabbit, or fly like a bird before he got a bite."