I. A. R. Wylie

“ Lizzy Phipps threw back her head with her vitriolic laugh.
"'E was out for it," she said, "a pot 'unter!"
"And later on he won his commission," the old woman continued steadily. "Though he was just a poor Tommy they couldn't hold him back. He was a fine soldier. People loved him too—his men and all the grand people there—and—and he married a real lady."
"A real lady—to 'ave married im!"
"And proud she must have been," the woman answered. "He was the best set-up man in the Army—tall and handsome he was. Any woman might have been proud." ”

“ She knew that he was in some sort of uniform, but as her eyes accustomed themselves to the half-light she saw that it was tattered and dishevelled-looking. There was a long horizontal tear on the left breast of his tunic as though something had been ripped off.
"You'd better be getting 'ome, old chap," she said over her shoulder. "Even if you are drunk you'll be safer there."
He did not answer, and she lifted her red, swollen eyes back to the sky across which the searchlights swept in disciplined but baffled pursuit. For the crescent moon, now at her zenith, drank up their strength. ”

“ In the confined space the noise of falling crockery was deafening—terrifying. It synchronised with the returning boom of the guns, and in a moment the cellar had grown hot and stifling with panic.
No one spoke. The pitch darkness cut them off from each other. Each in his own utter isolation came back to the reality.
"They're nearer again," Lizzy Phipps whispered at last. "I thought it was a bomb. I wish I knew where I 'ad my matches. Wot cher do it for, old boy?" ”

“ The old-time London that had once bedizened the night with blatant glare and vulgar wealth had become a place of enchantment, dim, mysterious, ennobled, its background a deepening silence against which each sound, almost each footfall, stood out alone. The people came and went like ghosts haunting some forsaken city. The rare lights of the streets, the dying traffic, were like fire-flies dancing through the purple darkness. ”

“ All Sergeant Tibbit's officers were either killed or wounded, and no help came. Sergeant Tibbit rallied his men, and by extraordinary skill and courage extricated them and brought them back with all his wounded to the main force. Sergeant Tibbit risked his life repeatedly for his comrades, and his conduct is beyond all praise. ”

“ You won't believe what everyone knows."
The old woman clasped her gnarled, work-stained hands patiently.
"They don't know. Not really. It's better to think kindly."
"Oh, no, it ain't—not always—not by a long way." She drew herself up like someone who after long, bitter restraint closes with an enemy. "You listen 'ere, Mammy. You shall 'ave it straight for once. You've nigh on messed up my life, you and Jim, between you—with your kindly thinking. ”

“ Lizzy Phipps came out of the dark passage.
"You ain't going," she said. "It ain't safe. They might begin again."
"I ought to have been shot," he said; "it would have been better—not to have come in. I just wanted you to know—'ow it was—I wanted Em to know."
But she barred his way.
"You ain't going," she said. "My Jim 'd never forgive me. And 'e was right, too, though 'e made me bitter angry at the time. 'Don't you listen to no talk, Liz,' 'e whispers to me, weak as a kitten. '’E was a fine soldier. There ain't one of us alive or dead as wouldn't tell you so. ”

“ He used to dream at night—every night—that he'd done something—said something in a crowd of people, and that they'd looked at him—not laughing—because they wouldn't do that—but amused and polite and scornful. Sometimes he'd use his knife wrong—or he'd drop his aitches. Hours and hours he'd practice his aitches—in his room—by himself—trying to make them come easy and natural. But they never would."
"Wot's it matter—dropping your aitches any'ow?" Lizzy Phipps demanded. "Bloomin' affectation." ”

“ He knew just what he wanted and where to get it He had seen it in a shop window—a gold box marvellously inlaid with enamel. It would do for a show thing until the boy grew up, and then it would do for his cigarette-box—the young beggar. The idea amused him. He was even a little proud of it. He explained it to the salesman who bowed towards him deferentially. What was the good of giving babies expensive toys which they broke, or ridiculous mugs which they didn't know what to do with when they grew up? But a swagger cigarette-box—gold and enamel—that would be something to grow up for! ”

“ Hold tight." But he did not stumble, not even over the last step of all, which was a trap for the unwary, and she congratulated him. "Might be at 'ome, you might," she said.
The cellar was low-roofed and dark, smelling mustily of old, discarded things. Wooden boxes, broken sticks of furniture, waste strips of carpet which had found their home there had been pushed aside or made to serve a new purpose. There was a divan of straw over a ragged mattress, and a candle stuck in its own grease stood on a soap-box table in the midst of cups, a tin kettle, and a battered spirit lamp. ”

“ I'm goin' to 'ave a drink—one drink, two drinks, three drinks—till I get his poor white face out of me 'ead. That's what I'm goin' to do."
"But you can't. It's only four o'clock."
"I can wait then," the girl answered grimly. "I ain't goin' 'ome to 'is people till I'm soaked jolly, so there!"
The nurse sighed but made no protest, for her work lay in a neighbourhood where the dullest of us gets understanding. "Well, each man his own medicine," she said; "but don't get yourself into trouble." ”

“ But I ain't got the sweetest temper in the world, and when I sees 'im like that—a little bit of a white thing—'im that was so fine and upstanding—why I wants to knife somebody, for choice that old blighter, that dodderin' old shunk wot's done it all."
"It's no use blaming people," the nurse interposed quietly; "your husband might have been wounded anyhow. We ought not to blame people in authority. We don't know enough." ”

“ I saw it in your face that day, Jim brought me 'ome as 'is girl. 'She ain't good enough.' That's what you thought. And I've seen it in Jim's face, too, though 'e loved me. I've seen 'im thinking. 'Supposing I got on, too—wot abart 'er?' Because 'e knew I wasn't classy and never could be—'cause I don't speak fine like you and Jim 'ave learnt to do and never shall. And when Jim got into that regiment I knew what 'e was thinking of, and it fair broke my 'eart." She gulped down the rising tears with a fierce, angry effort. "You've 'ad 'im in your minds all the time," she stammered ”

“ He was blind mad. He could only hang on to the one thing—that he mustn't run—that he must stick his ground. They shouldn't ever say Alf Tibbit ran. They shouldn't laugh at him for that."
"He was always a great fighter," the old woman declared. "They couldn't expect Alf Tibbit to retreat."
Lizzy Phipps frowned.
"Poor blighter!"
"Yes. He hadn't any luck. He wasn't killed. Others were, but not him. When it was all over they sent him home, and to-day—a few hours ago—they finished it—he was cashiered."
"Cashiered!" Lizzy Phipps echoed. "Wot's it mean? Where do chaps go wot's cashiered?" ”

“ A man couldn't do what he did and not be sober and straight. Think of it, when 'e went to India he was just a common Tommy—Alf Tibbit, of the 42nd——" She stopped for an instant, and they knew that she was smiling to herself. ”

“ Leanin' up aginst the railings 'e was as though the place belonged to 'im. I ain't givin' the 'Un anything for nothing, so I brought 'im in. My word, it was a near thing, too!"
"They're overhead. Come down quick. We're all there. Father's almost asleep."
"Lucky to be deaf these nights." She jerked her companion's arm. "Now you come quiet," she urged. "The cellar steps aren't much catch for anyone in your state and you've been near enough to trouble for one evening." Then something in his silence, his feeble clinging to her touched her to pity. "Poor old boy! Ain't 'arf shaken up, are you? ”

“ You looked up at 'im as though 'e were a bloomin god—trying to be worthy of 'im—'im as did the meanest, dirtiest thing a man can do, and you looked down on me, 'oo would 'ave given my life to save Jim's little finger—or yours, Mammy, because I was common dirt. ”

“ You're not accustomed to seeing people like that——"
"And you're too bloomin' well accustomed to it," Lizzy Phipps retorted viciously. "You're always seein' 'em like that. My belief is you don't know what an 'ole 'uman being looks like."
"Oh, come!" the nurse protested, smiling.
The girl rubbed the tears off her chin.
"Oh, I knows I'm a pig. I 'aven't no cause to bite your 'ead off, any'ow. You've all been angels to 'im—that's wot 'e said. I ought to be on me knees to you. ”

“ They looked as though they had always hoped and believed the best. "One worries so about other people," she said. "If we're all together it seems easier. Oh, Liz, we've been so anxious—it's been so terrible waiting. We didn't know what to think. Why didn't you come back?"
Lizzy Phipps crouched down against the wall, her arms clasped about her knees, her hair hanging like a black web over her sullen, unhappy face.
"I couldn't," she said, "I wasn't coming 'ome feeling as I did. It wouldn't 'ave been fair. ”

“ But other people knows better. There's talk in Parliament, and it's in the papers. There was a chap at the 'Green Lion' whose brother was in the regiment. 'E was in the very place where the order was given. 'E said the old man couldn't stand straight nor talk straight. 'E was just gobbling nonsense. And upstairs the boys were being blown to bits. But 'e didn't care. 'E got 'is V.C. and 'is cushy job. 'E could sit tight and swig——"
"It isn't true," the old woman said quietly and authoritatively.
Lizzy Phipps threw back her dishevelled head and laughed. ”

“ Nothing would quiet my boy but getting into 'is regiment, and talk about 'im every time 'e come 'ome on leave—my ears, 'ow 'e talked. And now look at 'im. 'E'"never play footer agin, not in this life. I say they ought to put 'is bloomin' 'ero up against a wall—but they won't. They'll give 'im a smack and tell 'im to run away and do it again somewhere else. I knows 'em." She brought her clenched fist down on the counter so that the glasses jingled. ”

“ If we sees 'ome to-night we 'as to foot it, old boy!"
"Wot! Orl the way to the Old Kent Road?"
"And why not? With bloomin' fire-works and a band playing to keep you in step? G'arn, Samuel. You don't 'arf want somethink for your money, you don't! Fergotten there's a war on, ain't you?" ”

“ I'd better be gettin' 'ome. The missis likes to 'ave us all under one roof. All die together sort o' thing. Ain't my idea. I says, 'Scatter us,' so as the 'Uns won't 'ave the satisfaction of wipin' out the 'ole 'Iggins family at one swoop. ”

“ I'd 'ave frightened you. I 'ad to get my feet first." She ground her teeth together. "Even now I can see 'im lying there with this going on over 'is 'ead, and 'im 'elpless, not able to save 'imself or to 'it back." ”