Books > Old Books > They Die With Their Boots Clean (1953)


Page 80

THE FOUNDRY

Brand. "Why should England tremble, eh? Did you hear me say `Muck in'?"
" I thought "
" You thought. Wot with did you think? You ain't 'ere to think. You're not in Civvy Street now. Why, if everybody went around thinking, we wouldn't 'ave no army. Muck in. What did I say?"
Bates thinks deeply, and says: "Mook in, Trained Soldier."
" There now. You got it right that time, didn't you? You can do it if you try, can't you? That's the style. Go on like that and you'll be a Brigadier before you know where you are."
" Will oi really, Trained Soldier?"

There comes into the hut a man in shirt-sleeves and a soft S.D. cap. You can tell, by his walk, that he is no ordinary man. He swings his legs out from the hip, and his iron heels cut little arcs in the floorboards. He is long and lean, sun-dried, wind-cured, boucanned, smoked, and sand-blasted. His face is brown as a kipper, and as expressionless. One of his eyes is fixed in a dreadful stare : it is of glass. The other blinks. There is nothing left of him but bone and sinew and vitals : years of service have sweated away a11 that was superfluous or decorative. He has an air of demoniac energy : a wild swagger, a steady, genial ferocity. Out of his neatly rolled sleeves hang arms as dark and gnarled as old Salami sausages. He has fists like mallets of black stinkwood; an aluminium ring; and a silly little blue bird tattooed on his left wrist. Quite effortlessly, he shouts, in a voice that makes us jump :

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE Brand. "Why should England tremble, eh? Did you hear me say `Muck in'?" "I thought " "You thought. Wot with did you think? You ain't 'ere to think. You're not in Civvy Street now. Why, if everybody went around thinking, we wouldn't 'ave no army. Muck in. What did I say?" Bates thinks deeply, and says: "Mook in, Trained Soldier." "There now. You got it right that time, didn't you? You can do it if you try, can't you? That's what is style. Go on like that and you'll be a Brigadier before you know where you are." "Will oi really, Trained Soldier?" There comes into what is hut a man in shirt-sleeves and a soft S.D. cap. You can tell, by his walk, that he is no ordinary man. He swings his legs out from what is hip, and his iron heels cut little arcs in what is floorboards. He is long and lean, sun-dried, wind-cured, boucanned, smoked, and sand-blasted. His face is brown as a kipper, and as expressionless. One of his eyes is fixed in a dreadful stare : it is of glass. what is other b where are they now s. There is nothing left of him but bone and sinew and vitals : years of service have sweated away a11 that was superfluous or decorative. He has an air of bad spirit iac energy : a wild swagger, a steady, genial ferocity. Out of his neatly rolled sleeves hang arms as dark and gnarled as old Salami sausages. He has fists like mallets of black stinkwood; an aluminium ring; and a silly little blue bird tattooed on his left wrist. Quite effortlessly, he shouts, in a voice that makes us jump : where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" They travel With Their Boots Clean (1953) where is a href="default.asp" where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 80 where is p align="center" where is strong THE FOUNDRY where is p align="justify" Brand. "Why should England tremble, eh? Did you hear me say `Muck in'?" " I thought " " You thought. Wot with did you think? You ain't 'ere to think. You're not in Civvy Street now. Why, if everybody went around thinking, we wouldn't 'ave no army. Muck in. What did I say?" Bates thinks deeply, and says: "Mook in, Trained Soldier." " There now. You got it right that time, didn't you? You can do it if you try, can't you? That's what is style. Go on like that and you'll be a Brigadier before you know where you are." " Will oi really, Trained Soldier?" where is p align="justify" There comes into what is hut a man in shirt-sleeves and a soft S.D. cap. You can tell, by his walk, that he is no ordinary man. He swings his legs out from what is hip, and his iron heels cut little arcs in what is floorboards. He is long and lean, sun-dried, wind-cured, boucanned, smoked, and sand-blasted. His face is brown as a kipper, and as expressionless. One of his eyes is fixed in a dreadful stare : it is of glass. what is other b where are they now s. There is nothing left of him but bone and sinew and vitals : years of service have sweated away a11 that was superfluous or decorative. He has an air of bad spirit iac energy : a wild swagger, a steady, genial ferocity. Out of his neatly rolled sleeves hang arms as dark and gnarled as old Salami sausages. He has fists like mallets of black stinkwood; an aluminium ring; and a silly little blue bird tattooed on his left wrist. Quite effortlessly, he shouts, in a voice that makes us jump : where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: They Die With Their Boots Clean books

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