of Sergeants, the condemnabllity of India, and the ruddiness of things in general.
The Vice, aided by Ayah and Mowlah, toiled through the loose sand and joined the President, the servants retiring to a discreet distance.
Bobball arose, stiffened to attention, and saluted.
"Yore a soight fer sore heyes," quoth he.
"Have you got sore eyes, Bobball?" asked the President. "I am sorry. You ought to go to the chemist, and"
"No, Missy. I'll go to the Canteen an' wash away all sech sorrers, byembye. Better'n the chimist," interrupted Bobball.
"Oh? I didn't know you could get eye-wash at the Canteen," was the reply.
"Lots of heye-wash in the harmy, Missy," laughed Bobball, patting Jock. "Lemme lift you dahn orfen yore charger, an' you two 'ave a buck wiv' ole Bobball—and then 'e'll go an' get dr—er—get some heye-wash. . . . Nice liddle 'oss that," and he lifted the President to the ground, and signed to Mowlah to come and take the pony.
