Mrs. Beatup stood up sorrowfully—
“Oh, Tom, I’ve a feeling as you’ll never come back.”
“You’ve always had that feeling, mother—and I’ve always come back, surelye.”
“But maybe I’m right this time. They say as the Germans ull maake a gurt push this Spring, and I reckon they’re sure to kill you if they can.”
“Reckon they’ll have a try—and if my number’s up I mun go, and if it aun’t, I mun stay. So thur’s no sense in vrothering.”
“You spik very differunt, Tom, from when you wur a lad.”
“I feel different, you can bet.”
“And yit it’s scarce two year agone since you wur naun but a boy, and now you’re naun of a boy that I can see—you’re a married man and the father of a child.”
“And whur’s the harm of it?—you needn’t look so glum.”