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lest some scream should come to haunt him； and he fixed his eyes rigidly
upon the wooden ledge in front of him。 One glance； one cry； would； he
knew； break down the shred of self…possession which he still retained。
He tried to think of cricket； of green fields and rippling water； of his sisters
at homeof anything rather than of what was going on so near him。
And yet somehow； even with his ears stopped up； sounds seemed to
penetrate to him and to carry their own tale。 He heard； or thought that he
heard； the long hissing of the carbolic engine。 Then he was conscious of
some movement among the dressers。 Were there groans； too； breaking in
upon him； and some other sound； some fluid sound； which was more
dreadfully suggestive still？ His mind would keep building up every step
of the operation； and fancy made it more ghastly than fact could have been。
His nerves tingled and quivered。 Minute by minute the giddiness grew
more marked； the numb； sickly feeling at his heart more distressing。 And
then suddenly； with a groan； his head pitching forward； and his brow
cracking sharply upon the narrow wooden shelf in front of him； he lay in a
dead faint。
When he came to himself； he was lying in the empty theatre； with his
collar and shirt undone。 The third year's man was dabbing a wet sponge
over his face； and a couple of grinning dressers were looking on。
〃All right；〃 cried the novice； sitting up and rubbing his eyes。 〃I'm
sorry to have made an ass of myself。〃
〃Well； so I should think；〃 said his companion。
〃What on earth did you faint about？〃
〃I couldn't help it。 It was that operation。〃
〃What operation？〃
〃Why； that cancer。〃
There was a pause； and then the three students burst out laughing。
〃Why； you juggins！〃 cried the senior man； 〃there never was an operation at
all！ They found the patient didn't stand the chloroform well； and so the
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whole thing was off。 Archer has been giving us one of his racy lectures；
and you fainted just in the middle of his favourite story。〃
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A STRAGGLER OF '15。
It was a dull October morning； and heavy； rolling fog…wreaths lay low
over the wet grey roofs of the Woolwich houses。 Down in the long；
brick…lined streets all was sodden and greasy and cheerless。 From the
high dark buildings of the arsenal came the whirr of many wheels； the
thudding of weights； and the buzz and babel of human toil。 Beyond； the
dwellings of the workingmen； smoke…stained and unlovely； radiated away
in a lessening perspective of narrowing road and dwindling wall。
There were few folk in the streets； for the toilers had all been absorbed
since break of day by the huge smoke…spouting monster； which sucked in
the manhood of the town； to belch it forth weary and work…stained every
night。 Little groups of children straggled to school； or loitered to peep
through the single； front windows at the big； gilt…edged Bibles； balanced
upon small； three…legged tables； which were their usual adornment。 Stout
women； with thick； red arms and dirty aprons； stood upon the whitened
doorsteps； leaning upon their brooms； and shrieking their morning
greetings across the road。 One stouter； redder； and dirtier than the rest；
had gathered a small knot of cronies around her and was talking
energetically； with little shrill titters from her audience to punctuate her
remarks。
〃Old enough to know better！〃 she cried； in answer to an exclamation
from one of the listeners。 〃If he hain't no sense now； I 'specs he won't
learn much on this side o'Jordan。 Why； 'ow old is he at all？ Blessed if I
could ever make out。〃
〃Well； it ain't so hard to reckon；〃 said a sharp… featured pale…faced
woman with watery blue eyes。 〃He's been at the battle o' Waterloo； and
has the pension and medal to prove it。〃
〃That were a ter'ble long time agone；〃 remarked a third。 〃It were
afore I were born。〃
〃It were fifteen year after the beginnin' of the century；〃 cried a younger
woman； who had stood leaning against the wall； with a smile of superior
knowledge upon her face。 〃My Bill was a…saying so last Sabbath； when I
spoke to him o' old Daddy Brewster； here。〃
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〃And suppose he spoke truth； Missus Simpson； 'ow long agone do that
make it？〃
〃It's eighty…one now；〃 said the original speaker； checking off the years
upon her coarse red fingers； 〃and that were fifteen。 Ten and ten； and ten；
and ten； and tenwhy； it's only sixty…and…six year； so he ain't so old after
all。〃
〃But he weren't a newborn babe at the battle； silly！〃 cried the young
woman with a chuckle。 〃S'pose he were only twenty； then he couldn't be
less than six…and…eighty now； at the lowest。〃
〃Aye； he's thatevery day of it；〃 cried several。
〃I've had 'bout enough of it；〃 remarked the large woman gloomily。
〃Unless his young niece； or grandniece； or whatever she is； come to…day；
I'm off； and he can find some one else to do his work。 Your own 'ome
first； says I。〃
〃Ain't he quiet； then； Missus Simpson？〃 asked the youngest of the
group。
〃Listen to him now；〃 she answered； with her hand half raised and her
head turned slantwise towards the open door。 From the upper floor there
came a shuffling； sliding sound with a sharp tapping of a stick。 〃There he
go back and forrards； doing what he call his sentry go。 'Arf the night
through he's at that game； the silly old juggins。 At six o'clock this very
mornin there he was beatin' with a stick at my door。 ‘Turn out； guard！' he
cried； and a lot more jargon that I could make nothing of。 Then what
with his coughin' and 'awkin' and spittin'； there ain't no gettin' a wink o'
sleep。 Hark to him now！〃
〃Missus Simpson； Missus Simpson！〃 cried a cracked and querulous
voice from above。
〃That's him！〃 she cried； nodding her head with an air of triumph。 〃He
do go on somethin' scandalous。 Yes； Mr。 Brewster； sir。〃
〃I want my morning ration； Missus Simpson。〃
〃It's just ready； Mr。 Brewster； sir。〃
〃Blessed if he ain't like a baby cryin' for its pap；〃 said the young
woman。
〃I feel as if I could shake his old bones up sometimes！〃 cried Mrs。
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Simpson viciously。 〃But who's for a 'arf of fourpenny？〃
The whole company were about to shuffle off to the public house；
when a young girl stepped across the road and touched the housekeeper
timidly upon the arm。 〃I think that is No。 56 Arsenal View；〃 she said。
〃Can you tell me if Mr。 Brewster lives here？〃
The housekeeper looked critically at the newcomer。 She was a girl of
about twenty； broad… faced and comely； with a turned…up nose and large；
honest grey eyes。 Her print dress； her straw hat； with its bunch of glaring
poppies； and the bundle she carried； had all a smack of the country。
〃You're Norah Brewster； I s'pose；〃 said Mrs。 Simpson； eyeing her up and
down with no friendly gaze。
〃Yes； I've come to look after my Granduncle Gregory。〃
〃And a good job too；〃 cried the housekeeper； with a toss of her head。
〃It's about time that some of his own folk took a turn at it； for I've had
enough of it。 There you are； young woman！ In you go and make
yourself at home。 There's tea in the caddy and bacon on the dresser； and
the old man will be about you if you don't fetch him his breakfast。 I'll
send for my things in the evenin'。〃 With a nod she strolled off with her
attendan