G. B. Lancaster

“ They'll be coming from everywhere—coming like locusts—the men of England, the rich and the poor—all the men who know how to play the game. And who does know if an Englishman doesn't? They'll be there—the men of England—the men of England! ”

“ Then, in Terence's ear: "He's got to be happy to-night, Terry. Can't allow less to anyone—to-night!"
Terence blinked up into the kindly, clean-cut face. Muddied and wearied of body, wind-whipped and reddened of skin and eyes, Jim yet looked equal to financing the happiness of the whole world at this present. "Have ut your own way, ye spilin' spalpeen," he said, with a twinkle. "Bedad, 'tis over-fond ye are of sharin' all bhut your throubles, Jim! An', sure, ye've a right tu be grinnin'. All the swateness ye said an' more she is, bhoy!" ”

“ An' not a man but me got his last draft of lambs over before the floods. Top the market again, eh? Yes, you take up a selection, Tyrconnel, an' git a wife to help wi' the milkin', same as Jim Tarrion's doing, an' as I'm goin' to do, an' you'll make money if this blessed Government 'll keep its hands out of the pockets of a poor hard-working devil."
Terence flapped the dust from his handkerchief and thrust it back in his shirt.
"Ye an' your Socialism," he jibed; "'tis a worse plague to the community than Stair's brother, the Colonel!" ”

“ Jim spoke very quietly now, and Pat saw that his face was grey. "They'll want every man of us that they can get, and quick, too. Do you understand that this is going to be the biggest and bloodiest war the world has ever known? We're fightin' in millions this time, not in thousands. Was the river rising when you came over just now?"
"A bit, and she's dirty. No crossin' her by mornin', I shouldn't wonder."
"Then. I must go to-night," said Jim, half to himself. He turned, and Terence barred the way, staring and agitated. ”

“ What in thunder are they doin' their fightin' on her for? It don't seem right to me, someways."
"Right!" sneered Sleenan. "Who thinks of right when ambition gets in the way? Here's New Zealand offering troops already, The Press says. Same old rotten madness as at the South Africa time. We gave our men and money then, and what good has it done us? Not one penny will I give towards encouragin' this kind o' craziness—not one!"
"When did ye iver give anything tu anybody, 'cept opinions, and thim not asked for, bedad?" said Terence viciously, and then Jim put down the paper in his hand. ”

“ Terence thrust a paper into Jim's hands.
"Give a lick ov the eye over that, an' that, bhoy," he said. "We're intu ut, all right—tu the hilt, an' beyant ut, Mary Mother have marcy on us!"
But Jim looked over the little man's head at Stair, and there was a light in his eyes, strange and grim, which stirred the other man's muddled senses.
"Stair, you ought to know," he said. "How many men can England put into the field at the jump—now? France and Russia aren't mobilised yet." ”

“ They'll rush it, like the sports they are! C-call us a sporting nation, don't they? And so we are, and so is sport the finest preparation for the finest game—fellow can play. We'll be a sporting nation to-day, don't you make any mistake about that. We'll be rolling up in our thousands in Old England to-day—off the cricket-fields and the tennis-courts and the football grounds—yes, and from the boat-sheds and the shooting-lodges and the—the cinemas! ”

“ They're killin' women an' children! They're drivin' 'em up to the guns! Men are doin' that—men like it might be me. Is this war? Jim, is this war? Women an' children! It's gittin' too thick, this. I got to go an' tell 'em so. Let me by, Terry. Jim, did you hear? Men are doin' this! ”

“ He settled his shoulders against the chimney-shelf beside Tyrconnel, and filled and lit up his pipe with leisurely, large movements. "Well, what's the world been doing down this way?" he said.
"An' how wud we be knowin' more than yersilf?" cried Terence. "Wid all the rivers in flood, an' the wires down wid the washout at the Point, 'tis cut off entirely from ut's natural mother is this shlip of a worruld just now. Whirroo! There is Pat himsilf here on the word ov ut. Hey, Pat! Hev ye come over the river, through the flood an' the night an' all? 'Tis the bould bhoy ye are, entirely!" ”

“ Then he fell away again, muttering and searching down the columns, and Jim jerked Terence aside quickly.
"Terry," he said, "you'll get her back to her mother to-morrow? And she'll come down to Christchurch soon's the rivers drop. What? Yes, they'll need me—they'll need me! I can lick the young 'uns into shape, and I'm seasoned."
"An' will not she need ye—the girl ye made a bride tu-day?"
It was a cruel hit, and Jim winced under it, but his eyes did not fall.
"Yes, she will need me, too, and she'll send me," he said. "The women won't fail us now any more than they ever did. That you, Pat? ”

“ For all the self-indulgence of his wasted life it is probable that Stair received some fairly adequate punishment in that moment when he realised that the Old Country needed men, and that his own hand had put it out of his power to be one of them. ”

“ How many can Germany putt intu the field, wid Austria tu help her? I've a notion that's what we're wantin' to know. An' how many can she putt tu sea wid that grand new fleet of hers? That's what we're wantin' tu know, too. ”

“ Tyrconnel slouched up against the chimney-shelf and kicked the logs together. "Bring us another whisky, Terry, will you? An' if you'd bin haulin' logs through wet timber all day an' all week, you might have reason to be thinkin' o' yerself, Sleenan; but you ain't got to do nothin' but sit round watchin' the grass grow for yer blamed sheep." He rubbed his aching arms with a groan. "Reckon there ain't no power on earth will take me further than my bed to-night," he said.
The clink of bottles and glasses roused Stair. ”

“ France mobilising, Switzerland, Holland, Italy—wud ye hear tu that, bhoys? Is the whole worruld intu ut, then? Och, lyin' by for pickin's are they, now? So-o! Belgium shtandin' up tu Germany by her lonesome? Hurroosh for the little bantam! An' where wud we be oursilves? Are they goin' tu putt us acrost blue water? How? Sthair, wud ye git off of me feet, then? What? Bedad an' bedad, our Fleet has disappeared off the face of the earth. She wud be gone tu make ut hot for somebody. Och, why was I not there tu see the glory ov the worruld! Shtair, wud ye——"
But Stair was beyond holding now. ”

“ The rush of cold wind and sleet sent Sleenan closer to the fire. Jim said: "Cut after him, Pat, and help him saddle up. And you might lend me your second horse, will you? I'll send him back first chance."
The fear of ridicule was the only fear Pat knew. He grew scarlet, muttering something. But Terence caught at the word.
"Is ut so? An' wud ye go, tu? Wid that ride tu take again, an' all that's at the ind ov ut? Wud ye be goin' wid Tyrconnel, thin, bhoy?"
"Might as well." Pat was apologetic and incoherent. "Can ride a bit, if they're wantin' anybody—might as well." ”