THE SMITHY & NOBBY COLLECTION: 6 Novels & 90+ Stories in One Edition. Edgar Wallace
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be a fool, Clark,’ sez the sergeant, nastily. ‘We ‘aven’t got any chicken, you know that.’
“‘Then we’ll have pot pourri,’ sez Nobby very quick.
“‘What’s that?’ sez the sergeant, bewildered.
“‘Anything we got,’ sez Nobby.
“Everybody was talkin’ about the dinner, an’ we was all wonderin’ what we’d got in the way of food.
“Spud Murphy got his name took on the ten o’clock parade for speakin’ in the ranks.
“‘This afternoon,’ ‘e sez, very gloomy, ‘the pioneers’ll be wheelin’ a barrer round the square, ringin’ a bell an’ shoutin’ “Bring out your dead,” the same as it was at the great fire or London.’
“When the cookhouse bugle went there wasn’t a man of ‘B’ left in the canteen — they was all sittin’ tight in the barrackroom waitin’ for the orderly man to bring in the dinner.
“It come up all ‘ot and steamin’.
“There was potatoes an’ cabbage an’ a curious-lookin’ lot of meat an’ stuff. Spud Murphy looks over it, sniffs, an’ sez: ‘I’ll have some potato and cabbage.’
“As a matter of fact,” explained Smithy, “the dinner was very nice indeed, an’ Spud began to feel small when we told ‘im how we was enjoyin’ it.
“When we’d nearly finished it, there was a bit of a commotion outside, an’ in rushes a chap from ‘C’ Company. He dashes up to the table an’ takes a long look at the tin the dinner come up in, an’ then shouts:
“‘‘Ere! you bloomin’ thieves, you’re got our dinner, an’ we’ve got yours.’
“‘Well.’ sez the corporal, very kindly, ‘you’re welcome to it.’
“‘Ho are we!’ sez the ‘C’ man, shakin’ his ‘ead fiercely. ‘Well, just come an’ ‘ave a look at the stuff we’ve got.’
“So we all finished up our dinner quick, with the ‘C’ chap lookin’ on with tears in his eyes, an’ walks over to ‘C’ Company room. The dinner was steamin’ on the table, an’ everybody was standin’ a long way off lookin’ wild an’ hungry.
“‘What’s up?’ sez our corporal.
“‘That,’ sez the corporal of the otner room, very agitated, ‘that’s what’s up,’ sez ‘e, pointin’ to the dinner.
“We all looked at it; it looked all right. We smelt it; it smelt all right.
“‘Taste it,’ sez the other corporal.
“Our corporal ‘esitated a bit, then sampled the gravy.
“Just then the orderly officer arrived to ask if there was any complaints. ‘E was just goin’ to ask when ‘e saw our corporal.
“‘What’s the matter with Corporal White?’ ‘e sez; ‘is ‘e took ill?’
“‘No sir,’ sez the other corporal, an’ then explains about the dinner, whilst me and another chap assisted our corporal into the fresh air.
“When we got back the officer was talkin’.
“‘Send for Private Clark,’ he sez. So they did, an’ in a minute in walks Nobby lookin’ very pleased with hisself — one of our chaps had told him what a success our dinner was, an’ he thought the orderly officer had sent for ‘im to show the ‘C’ cook ‘ow to make a dinner.
“I will say,” said Smithy, enthusiastically, “old Nobby looked every inch a shef! White coat, white ‘at, an’ very nearly white apron.
“‘Clark,’ sez the orderly sternly. ‘did you prepare this?’
“Nobby was surprised to see ‘B’s dinner in ‘C’s room, but ‘e looked at it, an’ sez, ‘Yes.’
“‘What do you call it?’ sez the officer.
“‘Pot pourri,’ sez Nobby, boldly.
“‘Why pot pourri?’ sez the officer.
“Nobby thought a bit.
“‘Because it’s poured out of a pot,’ ‘e sez.
“The officer looks very ‘ard at Nobby.
“‘What’s this?’ ‘e sez, stirrin’ a curious lookin’ thing round with ‘is cane.
“Nobby looks at it an’ gasps, an’ just then the master cook, who’d been sent for;, come in.
“‘Sergeant!’ Nobby sez, quite excited, ‘look at this!’ The sergeant looked, an’ he gasped,
“‘P’raps,’ sez , Nobby, sternly. ‘you’ll apologise now for accusin’ me or stealin’ your blackin’ brush.’
17. The Journalist
I met Smithy in the High Street, and I will not attempt to deny that Smithy did not seem the least bit pleased to see me. He was in uniform, hence I conjectured that he had lost his job as groom to Major-Somebody-or-Other on the Staff.
“Fact is,” confessed Smithy, in answer to my reproaches, “I’m a bit down on newspaper chaps just now.”
This was indeed mournful news.
From the day I had first met Private Smithy of the 1st Anchester Regiment, at Orange River Station, when he gave a memorable reproof to the haughty C.I.V., down, so to speak, to yesterday, Smithy’s regard and esteem for the members of my profession had been most flattering.
“It’s hard enough,” complained Smithy bitterly, “when they won’t put your bits in the paper; but when they do, and, what’s more,” he added, with rising wrath, “they put your blue-light name to it, why — why, it’s emphatically, unprintably hard!”
And Smithy relapsed into a moody silence.
“Nobby Clark sez to me,” he resumed, plunging into the thick of his grievance, “‘e sez, ‘Smithy, how much money’ve you got?’
“‘Four dee,’ I sez — and it was three days off payday,” added Smithy, in vindication of his penury.
“‘Go and borrer a couple of bob from the flag,’ ‘e sez.
“‘You go,’ I sez.
“‘I’ve been,’ he sez sadly.
“‘So ‘ave I,’ I sez.
“‘What did ‘e say?’ sez Nobby, an’ I told him.
“You wouldn’t think a man with a colour-sergeant’s rank would use such language, would you?” asked Smithy, who gave me verbatim the “flag’s” insulting reply to Smithy’s modest demands.
“‘Well,’ sez Nobby, ‘we must git some money somewhere; what about puttin’ a bit in the papers?’
“‘What shall we put?’ I sez, catchin’ on to the idea, for a chap I know — Fatty James, of ‘B’ Company — got ten shillings once for writin’ to a paper that a picture of a sheep and a fence meant ‘Ramsgate.’
“‘Make something up,’ sez Nobby; so me an’ im went over to the library an’ thought an’ thought an’ thought.” Smithy lowered his voice to a reverential huskiness at the recollection of that evening of tremendous mental exertion.
“After