“To them the aides are the only fish in the matrimonial sea.”
“Have they caught many?”
“In this particular they remind me of the Irishman at sea, who fell asleep on the look-out. ‘Ahoy’ called the mate. No answer. ‘Ahoy’ again called the mate, and this time the awakened salt replied:—‘Shoo! Shoo! Sir, whist! I’m ketchin’ rats.’ ‘How many have you caught?’ asked the mate. ‘When I ketch this one and two more I’ll have three.’ Now when Ottawa society ketches one aide and then—”
“Hush Jack, somebody may hear you,” pleaded Mumsie, and our breakfast ended in silence. I wonder if Mr. Bang has proposed to some Ottawa girl and been refused!
After breakfast we wandered into the lounge, where we found Mr. Fraser. Mr. Bang led us to him saying,
“You have been in Ottawa off and on, over many years, what is the origin of the English accent here?”
Mr. Fraser looked up from his paper, rose to his feet, and after we were seated answered, “It’s barrack-room English, that’s what it is.”
“Barrack-room English!—surely not?”
“Yes it is: I lived in Halifax for thirty years and I know.”
“But it’s not the voice of Tommy Atkins—”