TAM O' THE SCOOTS
He had none of that divine discontent which is half the equipment of Scottish youth. Rather did he possess ambition's surest antidote in a mild and kindly cynicism which stripped endeavor of its illusions.
It was on the Wednesday night after he had written a polite little note to the One Hundred and Thirty-first General Hospital accepting the invitation to lunch and had received one of Blackie's tentative permits to take a day's leave (Tam called them "D. V. Passes") that the blow fell.
"Angus," said Tam to his batman, "while A'm bravin' the terrors of the foorth dimension in the morn—"
"Is that the new scoutin' machine, Sergeant?" demanded the interested batman.
"The foorth dimension, ma puir frien', is a tairm applied by philosophers of the Royal Flyin' Coop to the space between France an' heaven."
"Oh, you mean the hair!" said the disappointed servant.
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