Mavor.'
'Who is Mrs. Mavor?' I asked. But he made no reply. He was a born
fighter, and he put the fighting spirit into us all. We were bound to
win.
The sports were to begin at two o'clock. By lunch-time everything was in
readiness. After lunch I was having a quiet smoke in Craig's shack when
in he rushed, saying--
'The battle will be lost before it is fought. If we lose Quatre Bras, we
shall never get to Waterloo.'
'What's up?'
'Slavin, just now. The miners are coming in, and he will have them in
tow in half an hour.'
He looked at me appealingly. I knew what he wanted.
'All right; I suppose I must, but it is an awful bore that a man can't
have a quiet smoke.'
'You're not half a bad fellow,' he replied, smiling. 'I shall get the
ladies to furnish coffee inside the booth. You furnish them intellectual
nourishment in front with dear old Punch and Judy.'
He sent a boy with a bell round the village announcing, 'Punch, and
Judy in front of the Christmas booth beside the church'; and for
three-quarters of an hour I shrieked and sweated in that awful little
pen.
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