for Soapy, as pleased as a dog wi' two tails,
an' smilin' as glad as if 'e'd just converted the Kaiser; an' 'e lugs
out a big Bible 'e'd bought in a village we'd just passed through, an'
writes Soapy's name on the fly-leaf an' presents it to 'im, and tells
'im 'e'll come an' 'ave a chat any time 'e's near the Battery. The
Bible was none o' your fiddlin' pocket things, but a good substantial
one, wi' pitchers o' Moses in the bulrushes an' Abraham scarifyin' 'is
son, an' such like. An' the leaves was that thick that Soapy might as
well 'ave smoked brown paper or the _Pet-it Journal_. But that wasn't
the worst of it. Soapy chucked it over the first 'edge soon as the
padre 'ad gone, but next day the padre rolls up and tells Soapy a
Sapper 'ad picked it up and brought it to 'im--'im 'avin' signed 'is
name an' rank after "Presented by----" on the fly-leaf. An' 'e warns
Soapy to be more careful, and 'elps 'im stow it in 'is 'aversack, where
it took up most the room an' weighed a ton, an' left Soapy to
distribute 'is bully beef an' biscuits an' cheese an' spare socks and
cetera in all the pockets 'e 'ad. An even then poor Soapy wasn't
finished, for every time the padre got a chance 'e'd 'op round an' 'ave
a chat, as 'e called it, wi' Soapy, the chat being a cross-examination
worse'n a Court-Martial on what chapter Soapy 'ad been readin,' an'
full explanations of same. Soapy was drove at last to readin' a
chapter, so 'e could make out 'e savvied something of it.'

The Gunner tapped out his pipe on the heel of his boot and began to
re-fill it.

'If you'll believe me,' he said, 'that padre got poor Soapy pinned down
so he was readin' near a chapter a day--which shows the 'orrible
results that can come o' a little bit of simple deception.'

'An' how is Pint-o'-Bass goin' on wi' his Testament?' asked the Lead
Driver.

''E don't need to smoke it, now we're in these fixed positions an'
getting liberal supplies from these people that sends up to the papers'
Tobacco Funds. But 'e's savin' up the rest of it. Reckons that when
we get the Germans on the run again the movin' will be at the trot
canter an' gallop, same's before; an' the cigarette supplies won't be
able to keep up the pace. An' besides, 'e sez, 'e reckons it's only a
fair thing to smoke a cig'rette made wi' the larst chapter down the
'Igh Street o' Berlin the day Peace is declared.'

[1] England.

THE JOB OF THE AM. COL.

The wide door of the barn