xackly right at two fags to the page. 'E
started on the Creation just about the time o' Mons, an' by the time
we'd got back to the Aisne 'e was near through Genesis. All the time
we was workin' up thro' France again Bass's smokes were workin' down
through Exodus, an' 'e begun to worry about whether the Testament would
carry 'im through the campaign. The other fellers that 'ad their
tongues 'anging out for a fag uster go'n borrow a leaf off o' Bass
whenever they could raise a bit o' baccy, but at last Bass shut down on
these loans. "Where's your own Testament?" he'd say. "You was served
out one same as me, wasn't you? Lot o' irreligious wasters! Get a
Bible give you an' can't take the trouble to carry it. You'd ha' sold
them Testaments at a sixpence a sack in Woolwich if there'd been buyers
at that price--which there weren't. An' now you comes beggin' a page
o' mine. I ain't goin' to give no more. Encouragin' thriftlessness,
as the Adjutant 'ud call it; an', besides, 'ow do I know 'ow long this
war's goin' to last or when I'll see a fag or a fag-paper again? I'll
be smoking Deuteronomy an' Kings long afore we're over the Rhine, an'
mebbe," he sez, turnin' over the pages with 'is thumb an' tearin' out
the Children of Israel careful by the roots, "mebbe I'll be reduced to
smokin' the inscription, 'To our Dear Soldier Friend,' on the fly-leaf
afore I gets a chance to loot some 'baccy shop in Berlin. No," 'e sez.
"No. You go'n smoke a corner o' the _Pet-it Journal_, an' good enough
for you, unprovident sacriligeous blighters, you--givin' away your own
good Testaments."

'Young Soapy, o' the Centre Section, 'im that was struck off the
strength at Wipers later through stoppin' a Coal-Box, tried to come the
artful, an' 'ad the front to 'alt the Division padre one day an' ask
'im if 'e'd any spares o' pocket Testaments in store, makin' out 'e'd
lost 'is through lendin' it to 'is Number One, who had gone "Missin'."
Soapy made out 'e couldn't sleep in 'is bed at night--which wasn't
sayin' much, seein' we mostly slep' in our seats or saddles them
nights--becos 'e hadn't read a chapter o' the Testament first. An' the
old sky-pilot was a little bit surprised--he'd 'a bin more surprised if
'e knew Soapy as well as I did--an' a heap pleased, and most of all
bowed down wi' grief becos 'e 'adn't no Testament that was supernumary
to War Establishment, and so couldn't issue one to Soapy. But two days
later 'e comes 'unting