P. G. Wodehouse

“ The president opened the court-martial in unofficial phraseology.
"Look here, Sheen," he said, "we've come to the conclusion that this has got a bit too thick."
"You mustn't talk in that chatty way, Clayton," interrupted Linton. "'Prisoner at the bar's' the right expression to use. Why don't you let somebody else have a look in? You're the rottenest president of a court-martial I ever saw."
"Don't rag, Linton," said Clayton, with an austere frown. "This is serious."
"Glad you told me," said Linton. "Go on."
"Can't you sit down, Linton!" said Stanning. ”

“ Stanning began.
"Hurt your wrist!" said Sheen. "You got a bad attack of Peteiro. That was what was the matter with you."
"You think that every one's a funk like yourself," said Stanning.
"Pity they aren't," said Linton; "we should do rather well down at Aldershot. And he wasn't such a terror after all, Sheen, was he? You beat him in two and a half rounds, didn't you? Think what Stanning might have done if only he hadn't sprained his poor wrist just in time. ”

“ If anybody but Linton had been the first to congratulate him he might have decided on this second line of action. But he liked Linton, and wanted to be friendly with him.
"Thanks," he said.
Linton sat down on the table and burst into a torrent of speech.
"You are a man! What did you want to do it for? Where the dickens did you learn to box? And why on earth, if you can win silver medals at Aldershot, didn't you box for the house and smash up that sidey ass Stanning? I say, look here, I suppose we haven't been making idiots of ourselves all the time, have we?"
"I shouldn't wonder," said Sheen. ”