He'd had trouble from the start; he was always fighting, and while that's a soldier's trade, he's no supposed to practice it with his fellows, ye ken, but to save his anger for the enemy.

But, for once in a way, Andy's quarrelsome ways did him good.
He was punished once for fighting wi' his corporal, and when his captain came to look into things he found the trouble started because the corporal called him, the captain, out of his name.

So he made Andy his servant, and Andy served wi' him till he was killed in South Africa.
Andy was wounded there, and invalided home.

He was discharged, and said he'd ha' no more of the army--he'd liked that job no better than any other he'd ever had.

His captain, in his will, left Andy twa hunder pounds sterlin'-- more siller than Andy's ever thought to finger in his life.
"So it was that siller gave you your start, Andy, man ?" I said.
He laughed.
"Oh, aye!" he said.