round to the nearest recruiting station, followed by those who had heard the challenge. Before the sceptic had recovered his self-possession he found himself a soldier and Bindle once more convicted of "various veins."
"Well, Ginger," remarked Bindle pleasantly, after the pause that followed Ruddy Bill's discomfiture, "wot 'ave yer been doin' that yer can talk about without 'urtin' Sweet William's ears. Any noos?"
"I been an' joined," grumbled Ginger, as if he had committed one of the Seven Deadly Sins.
"Ginger," said Bindle approvingly, "the next pint yer 'as yer drinks wi' me, see?" After a pause Bindle continued, "Now yer got to kill three Germans, Ginger, as a sort of apology for 'avin' three babies. That'll square things."
"I don't want to kill Germans," growled Ginger.
"Then why did yer do it?" asked Wilkes.
"It's all through that rosy song. Blimey! I get fair sick of it."
Bindle laughed joyously.
"I thought you was goin' to 'ammer the next cove as said it, Ging. Why didn't yer?" he remarked.
"I couldn't 'ammer the 'ole yard, could I? They used to sing it every time I come in, so I 'listed."
