J. J. Bell

“ Oh, they weemen!'
'If ye hadna a face for pies already, I wud gi'e ye yin!'
'Ah, but ye daurna strike a man that's been wounded in his country's service. Aw, gor, I wisht I had never enlisted! What country's worth a mug like this? . . . Which girl are ye maist feart for, Macgreegor?'
Macgregor fled from the tormentor. He had not intended to use his late pass, but Willie's taunt had altered everything. Afraid? He would soon show Willie! Also he would show Maggie! Likewise he would show—Well, Christina had no business to behave as if she were the only girl in the world, as if he were a fool. ”

“ Ye see, I'll maybe get shot, an' I dinna want to dee in debt. An' I'll send the auld cat a caird wi' something nice on it, to please ye . . . . Eh?'
'Aw, onything ye like, but for ony sake clay up! Shift!' cried the distracted Macgregor.
'Weel gi'e's a fag . . . . an' a match,' said Willie.
He received them in his face, but merely grinned as he languidly removed himself.
The two scrawls so hastily and under such difficulties produced by Macgregor are sacred. He would never write anything more boyish and loving, nor yet more manly and brave, than those 'few lines' to his mother and sweetheart. ”

“ It was like you to ask your uncle to send Willie the parcel.
Miss Tod is not so brisk just now. The doctor says she must either drink less tea or become a chronic dyspeptomaniac. She prefers the latter. Poor old thing, her joys are few and simple! Trade is not so bad. A new line in poetical patriotical postcards is going well. The poetry is the worst yet.
I am sending you some cigarettes with my uncle's best wishes and a pair of socks with mine. Perhaps you have enough socks from home already. ”

“ Purdie that a summer outing this year was not possible, and Mr. Purdie must have told Mrs. Purdie. . . . Of course, she, Christina, would never have dreamed of going away otherwise. But the time would soon pass, Mac, and she intended to enjoy it thoroughly. . . .
If only she had left out that last sentence! But what true lover has not been stabbed by something very like it in his time?
XV THE FAT GIRL AGAIN Macgregor dropped his reply to Christina's unsatisfactory note into the pillar-box and, half wishing he had destroyed it instead, rejoined the faithful Willie Thomson. ”

“ Christina, teapot in one hand, kettle in the other, burst out laughing.
'Mind ye dinna burn yersel'!' cried Macgregor, starting into life.
'Haud the kettle, Mac,' said she. 'It's no fair o' Wullie to be sae funny.'
'I wasna funny!' Willie protested.
'It's yer notion o' the optimistic that tickled me,' she said. 'Pour, Mac; I'm steady noo. But ye're quite richt, Wullie. We canna be ower discreet when cash is involved. I'll get some high-class cairds for ye to inspect till the tea's infused.'
Macgregor would dearly have liked to follow her into the shop. ”

“ The silence was broken by Willie.
'Savin' up?'
'Ay.'
'It's a dashed bad habit, Macgreegor. Dinna let it grow on ye. If naebody saved up, everybody wud be weel aff. . . . Aweel, what maun be maun be.' And, groaning, Private Thomson drew forth a packet which his friend had 'stood' him the previous day. 'Regairdin' this tea pairty,' he resumed, 'are ye supposed to eat a' ye can an' leave what ye canna—if there's onything to leave?'
'She'll expect ye to eat a' ye can.'
'It's easy seen she doesna ken me.'
'Oh, she'll be prepared for the warst, Wullie,' said Macgregor, his good-humour returned. ”

“ I was a bit down-hearted when I wrote last, for your letter had said 'Dardanelles.' Now you say 'Flanders,' which is no better, but I am not going to cry this time. Surely they won't send you away so soon, dear.
Glad to hear Willie is greatly changed, and I hope he will keep on changing, though I could never admire a man that ate a whole tin of salmon in once. I'm sure the two girls were not so dreadfully plain as you report. Had they got their hair up? Girls don't usually put out their tongues at young men after their hair is up, so I presume they were very young. ”

“ Keep yer mind easy, Macgreegor. It's a million in gold to a rotten banana we never get a bash at onybody. It's fair putrid to think o' a' the terrible hard wark we're daein' here to nae purpose. I wisht I was deid! Can ye len' 'us a bob?'
'I ha'ena got it, Wullie; honest.' Willie sadly shook his head. 'That moll o' yours,' said he, 'is awfu' expensive. Ye've nae notion o' managin' weemen. Listen, an' I'll tell ye something. Ye mind last Monday? Weel, I had a late pass that nicht, an' I thocht I wud miss seein' ma aunt's ugly for wance—though it meant missin' a guid meal forbye. ”

“ Christina handed her an aluminium cigarette case—the best in the shop—and she presented it to Macgregor, saying: 'Ye're no to gang an' hurt yer health wi' smokin'; but when ye tak' a ceegarette, ye'll maybe gi'e a thocht to an auld body that'll be rememberin' ye, baith mornin' an' nicht.'
'If he smokes his usual, he'll be thinkin' o' ye every twinty meenutes,' remarked the girl, and drawing on her gloves, she came round to the door in order to close an interview which threatened to become lugubrious for all parties. ”

“ He had never before had a similar experience, not even in the half-forgotten days of Jessie Mary; for Jessie Mary had not become the pursuer until he had betrayed anxiety to escape from her toils. And he had been only seventeen then. ”

“ Now and then Macgregor chuckled with moderate heartiness.
'Enjoyin' yersel'?' she said in a chocolate whisper, close to his ear.
'So, so.'
'Ye're like me. I prefer the serious picturs. Real life an' true love for me! Ha'e a sweetie? Oh, ye're smokin'. As I was sayin', ye're a queer lad, Macgreegor.' She leaned against his arm. 'What made ye stan' me a slider, an' a champion tea, an' they nice sweeties, an' a best sate in a pictur hoose—when ye wasna extra keen on ma comp'ny?'
'Dear knows.'
She drew away from him so smartly that he turned his face towards her. ”

“ Willie let off sundry curses. 'But I suppose I'm to blame,' he said bitterly.
'Naebody to blame but masel'.'
'But did ye no explain to Christina? A' ye did was to canoodle wi' the wrang girl, pro tem.—a thing that happens daily. I couldna fancy a girl that naebody had ever wanted to cuddle; an' if I was a girl I couldna fancy a chap that——'
'Nae use talkin' aboot it, Wullie,' Macgregor said sadly, wearily.
'Aw, but her an' you 'll mak' it up afore ye're done. If ye dinna, I'll want to kill masel' an' Maggie forbye. A' the same, I wisht fat Maggie was here the noo. ”

“ What are ye efter?'
'Her! She's fat when ye're close to her. Come on! I'll introjuice ye.'
'Thenk ye! I'm no takin' ony.'
'Jist for fun. I want to see her face when she sees me again.'
'Weel, I'll no prevent ye. So long.' At that moment the girl was held up at a busy crossing.
'Hullo, Maggie!' said Willie pertly.
'I'm off,' said Macgregor—but his arm was gripped.
The girl turned. 'Hullo,' she said coolly; 'still livin'?' Catching sight of Macgregor, she giggled. It was not an unpleasing giggle. Lean girls cannot produce it.
'This is Private Macgreegor Robi'son,' said Willie, unabashed. ”

“ Ye've got a dacent fayther an' mither an' brither an' sister; ye've got a dacent uncle; ye've got a dacent girl. . . . An' what the hell ha'e I got? A rotten aunt!' Maybe she canna help bein' rotten, but she is—damp rotten! She wud be gled, though she wud greet, if I got a bullet the morn. There ye are! That's me!'
'Wullie!' Macgregor exclaimed, holding out his hand, which the other ignored.
'I'm rotten, tae,' he went on, bitterly. 'Fine I ken it. But I never had an equal chance wi' you. I'm no blamin' ye. Ye've aye shared me what ye had. I treated ye ill aboot the enlistin'. ”

“ Miss Tod appeared, fresh from the joys of strong tea.
'Oh, lassie, ha'e ye hurted yersel'?'
Christina choked, recovered herself and cried: 'I've sold a blighter a sixpenny notebook for threepence, an' I'll never get over it as long as I live. B—but I hope that'll no be long!'
Just then Heaven sent a customer.
* * * * *
And perhaps Heaven sent the telegram that Macgregor found on his return home, rather late in the afternoon. The war has changed many things and people, but mothers most of all. Mrs. Robinson made no mention of the 'extra special' dinner prepared so vainly in her son's honour. ”

“ He had a right to enjoy himself, too. He had suffered enough, and the cocoa-nut was the limit! . . .
'Are ye for Glesca?' Willie persisted when Macgregor was giving himself a 'tosh up' in the billet.
'Ay, am I!' he snapped at last.
'Hurray for the hero! Weel, gi'e Maggie yin on the squeaker frae me, an' tell her no to greet for me, because I'm no worthy o' her pure unselfish love, etceetera. I doobt the weather's gaun to be ower fine for cabs the nicht, but dinna despair; it's gettin' dark fairly early noo. Enjoy yersel' while ye're young.'
'That's enough,' said Macgregor. ”

“ Anyway, the reply was a curt 'I don't think.'
'I believe ye're ashamed o' the uniform,' said Willie, disagreeable under his own disappointment at the verdict.
'Say it again!' snapped Macgregor.
Willie ignored the invitation, and swore by the great god Jings that he would assuredly wear breeks unless something happened. The only thing that may be said to have happened was that he did not wear breeks.
As a matter of fact, Macgregor, with his sturdy figure, carried his kilt rather well. The lanky William, however, gave the impression that he was growing out of it perceptibly, yet inevitably. ”

“ The tone of the words caused Macgregor to stare, but he said calmly enough: 'Either ye was a leear the nicht ye enlisted, or ye're a leear noo. Ye can tak' yer choice.'
'An' you can tak' aff yer coat!'
'I dinna need to undress for to gi'e ye a hammerin', if that's what ye're efter. But I'm no gaun to dae it here. We'd baith get into trouble.'
'Ye're henny,' said Willie.
Macgregor was more puzzled than angry. Here was Willie positively asking for a punching in public!
'What's wrang wi' ye, Wullie?' he asked in a lowered voice. 'Wait till we get oor next leave. ”

“ Presently he soberly inquired what his nephew's parents had said on the matter.
'I ha'ena tell't them yet.' 'Ah, that's bad. What—what made ye enlist?'
Macgregor knew, but could not have put it in words.
'Gettin' tired o' yer job here?'
'Na, Uncle Purdie.'
'H'm!' Mr. Purdie fondled his left whisker. 'An' when—a—ha'e ye got to—a—jine yer regiment?'
'The morn's mornin'. I believe we're gaun into camp immediately.'
'Oho! So ye'll be wantin' to be quit o' yer job here at once. Weel, weel, if ye feel it's yer duty to gang, lad, I suppose it's mines to let ye gang as cheery as I can. ”

“ Ere long, however, Macgregor developed a puffiness around his left eye while Willie exhibited a swelling lip. Both soon were pouring out sweat. They fought with frantic enthusiasm and notable waste of energy.
The audience laughed itself into helplessness, gasping advice and encouragement to each with a fine lack of favouritism.
'Wire in, wee yin! Try again, pipeshanks! Weel hit, Grocer! That had him, Wullie!—ye'll be a corporal afore yer auntie! Haw, Mac, that was a knock-oot, if it had struck! Cheer up, Private Thomson; gi'e him the kidney punch on his whuskers! Guid stroke. ”

“ Macgreegor, ye're jist a damp lucky deevil!'
'Oh, whisht!' said Christina smiling.
'Ye should get a girl, Wullie,' Macgregor remarked with the air of an old married man.
'I ha'ena your luck, ma lad. If I was trustin' a girl, I'll bet ye a bob she wud turn oot to be yin o' the sort that pinches a chap's wages afore they're warmed in his pooch, an' objec's to him smokin' a fag, an' tak's the huff if he calls her fig-face.'
'I'm afraid ye're a pessimist,' Christina said. 'I used to dae a bit in that line masel'. Ma favourite motto was: "Cheer up—ye'll soon be deid!" ”

“ Excuse me for seemin' to smile. I can tell ye I was surprised to see a dacent-like chap like you sae chummy wi' sic a bad character as him.'
'Aw, Wullie Thomson's no near as bad as his character. A' the same, he had nae business to slope wi'oot lettin' us ken. But he'll likely be comin' back. We'll wait for five meenutes an' see.'
Maggie drew herself up. 'I prefer no to wait where I'm no welcome,' she said in a deeply offended tone, and made to rise.
He caught her plump arm. 'Wha said ye wasna welcome? Eat yer sweeties an' dinna talk nonsense. If ye want to see the rest o' the picturs, I'm on. ”

“ For, after all, it's a very sore young manly heart, indeed, that can refuse the solace, or distraction, offered in the close proximity of young womanhood of the Maggie sort and shape. In other words, Macgregor may have been conscientiously afraid, but he had no disposition to run away. ”

“ I wud like to tell ye something—no as an excuse, for it wud be nae excuse, but jist to get quit o' the thing—aboot the time when ye was in Aberdeen——'
'Oh, never!'
'Jist that. Weel, I'll no bother ye,' he said, with hopeless resignation. Next moment he was ashamed of himself. He must change the subject. He actually smiled. 'Hoo did ye leave Miss Tod? Still drinkin'?'
Christina may not have heard him. She was surveying the ward. Macgregor's only near neighbour was apparently sound asleep, and the only patient sitting up was intent on a game of draughts with a nurse. ”

“ I'm gaun to meet her again on ma next leave. If I tell her we've orders for the Dardanelles, there's nae guessin' what she'll dae for me.'
'She maun be unco saft,' Macgregor commented pityingly.
'Maybe the kilt had something to dae wi' it,' Willie modestly allowed. 'They a' adore the kilt. Can ye no spare saxpence . . . weel, thruppence?'
'I could spare ye a bat on the ear, but I'll tell ye what I'll dae. I've got some money comin' the morn, an' I'll present ye wi' twa bob, if ye'll tak' yer oath to spend them baith on gi'ein' the fat yin a treat.'
Willie gasped. ”

“ Macgreegor, what nicht 'll suit ye?'
'If ye say a nicht, I'll try for it; but I canna be sure o' gettin' a late pass.' He was less uncertain when making appointments with Christina.
And Mr. Robinson once more blundered and caused his son to blush by saying: 'He wud rayther spend the evenin' wi' his intended—eh, Macgreegor?'
'But she's to be invited!' Lizzie cried triumphantly. 'So there ye are!'
'Ah, but that's no the same,' John persisted, 'as meetin' her quiet-like. ”

“ I'm that fond o' ye. An' it's no as if I had done a black crime. It was a pure accident——'
'Jist like a penny novel,' she interrupted merciless again. 'Weel, I'm sure ye're welcome to ha'e as mony girls as ye like—only, ye'll ha'e to leave me oot. That's a'!' She took out her purse and from it something small which, stepping forward, she laid on the counter near him. Her engagement ring!
After a moment of strained silence—'Christina!' he gasped;
'Christina! ye canna mean it serious!'
'Good-bye,' she said stiffly, stepping back. ”

“ He gets soon fed up on cold nothings. Mac does not care a roten aple for Maggie, but you left him nothing better, and she is a nice girl and soft with a man, so God forgive you as I will not till I hear you are reddy to kiss him again. ”

“ It's no fair——'
'Oh,' she cried harshly, 'dinna keep on at that tune!'
All at once he drew himself up. 'Noo I see what ye mean,' he said in an almost even voice. 'Ye had made up yer mind to be quit o' me. Still, it wud ha'e been honester to say ye was fed up to ma face. Weel, I'm no blamin' ye, an' I canna force ye to listen to ma story, no that it wud be worth ma while noo to shame masel' wi' the tellin'. I'll no even ask ye hoo ye cam' to hear aboot Maggie. Maggie's jist an or'nar' girl, an' I'm jist an or'nar' chap that done a stupid thing because he couldna think what else to dae. ”