And there was he, groaning,--nobbut a bit of _colic_, Mrs.
Sarratt, that anybody might have!--and there I sat--thinking of our lads in the trenches--thinking of _my boy_--that never grumbled at anything--and would ha' been just ashamed to make such a fuss for such a little.

And this afternoon the brother's taken him away to be molly-coddled at home.

And, of course, they've left us, just when they might ha' been o' soom real service.

There's three fields still liggin oot in t' wet--and nobody to lend a hand wi' them.

But I doan't want them back! I doan't hold wi' foak like that.