"Bill," very faintly; then, with surprise, "Blimey! 'E's blubbing! Poor old Bill!"
The big man was shaking with strangled sobs. For some moments he held his friend close, and it was the dying man who spoke first.
"Are we dahn-'earted?" he said. The whisper went along the line and swelled into a roar.
The big man choked back his sobs. "No, old pal, no!" he answered, and "No-o-o-o!" roared the line in unison.
The little man lay back with a contented sigh. "No," he repeated, and closed his eyes for ever.
THE SOUTHDOWNS.
The Grey Men of the South
They look to glim of seas,
This gentle day of drouth