And they were stronger hands than mine That digged the Ruby from the earth— More cunning brains that made it worth
My friends Mulvaney and Ortheris had gone on a shooting-expedition for one day. Learoyd was still in hospital, recovering from fever picked up in Burma.
"A gentleman who doesn't know the Circasian Circle ought not to stand up for it—puttin' everybody out." That was what Miss McKenna said, and the Sergeant who was my vis-à-vis looked the same thing.
The Inexpressibles gave a ball. They borrowed a seven-pounder from the Gunners, and wreathed it with laurels, and made the dancing-floor plate-glass and provided a supper,
A man should, whatever happens, keep to his own caste, race and breed. Let the White go to the White and the Black to the Black.
Mulvaney, Ortheris and Learoyd are Privates in B Company of a Line Regiment, and personal friends of mine. Collectively I think, but am not certain,
There had been a royal dog-fight in the ravine at the back of the rifle-butts, between Learoyd's Jock and Ortheris's Blue Rot—both mongrel Rampur hounds,
One of the many curses of our life in India is the want of atmosphere in the painter's sense. There are no half-tints worth noticing.