DOI article:
Crackanthorpe, Hubert: Bread and the circus
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.27806#0259
By Hubert Crackanthorpe 255
“ I wasna, I tell yer. . . . It’s a blasted lie,” “ Scottie ” protested
in a husky voice.
“Look yer here,” Joe interrupted, “if yer can’t keep a civil
tongue in yer head, yer can jest clear out o’ the tent.”
The situation was growing strained. The heat was terrific;
we were encamped in a small dusty square in a low quarter of the
city, and before the first tent-peg had been driven in, the ground
was swarming with roughs. There had been a lot of fighting,
and the “boss” and Jim had been cursing themselves hoarse.
Everyone, as George mildly expressed it, was “just a bit put
out.”
“ Ain’t it sickly, the ’eat in this tent ? ” Maggie remarked. “ I
feel that upset-,” and she cast a sidelong glance in Joe’s
direction, but he went on scowling and munching his bread and
butter.
“ No, you don’t care, you great selfish lout ; you think of
nothing but them stinkin’ elephants, and getting yer own break-
fast comfortable.”
The “lieutenant” winked at me from his corner, and helped
himself to some more bacon. Maggie was on the verge of tears,
and Joe was desperately gulping down his breakfast.
“ Come, Maggie, have a bite o’ somethin’,” he began, sheepishly,
after a pause.
She shook her head violently.
“ Give her time, Joe, old man,” advised the “ lieutenant.”
A few minutes later Joe asked again.
“ Ain’t yer goin’ to have nothin’ ? ”
She dissented faintly.
Joe rose, and putting on his coat, moved towards the tent-
mouth.
“Well, I’m going out,” he exclaimed, with forced carelessness.
The Yellow Book—Vol. VII. p “Because
“ I wasna, I tell yer. . . . It’s a blasted lie,” “ Scottie ” protested
in a husky voice.
“Look yer here,” Joe interrupted, “if yer can’t keep a civil
tongue in yer head, yer can jest clear out o’ the tent.”
The situation was growing strained. The heat was terrific;
we were encamped in a small dusty square in a low quarter of the
city, and before the first tent-peg had been driven in, the ground
was swarming with roughs. There had been a lot of fighting,
and the “boss” and Jim had been cursing themselves hoarse.
Everyone, as George mildly expressed it, was “just a bit put
out.”
“ Ain’t it sickly, the ’eat in this tent ? ” Maggie remarked. “ I
feel that upset-,” and she cast a sidelong glance in Joe’s
direction, but he went on scowling and munching his bread and
butter.
“ No, you don’t care, you great selfish lout ; you think of
nothing but them stinkin’ elephants, and getting yer own break-
fast comfortable.”
The “lieutenant” winked at me from his corner, and helped
himself to some more bacon. Maggie was on the verge of tears,
and Joe was desperately gulping down his breakfast.
“ Come, Maggie, have a bite o’ somethin’,” he began, sheepishly,
after a pause.
She shook her head violently.
“ Give her time, Joe, old man,” advised the “ lieutenant.”
A few minutes later Joe asked again.
“ Ain’t yer goin’ to have nothin’ ? ”
She dissented faintly.
Joe rose, and putting on his coat, moved towards the tent-
mouth.
“Well, I’m going out,” he exclaimed, with forced carelessness.
The Yellow Book—Vol. VII. p “Because