"You know, Sir, there's been an alarming short ration of coal an'
fuel down in the village for a long time, an' two days ago Madame Navet,
who does the orficers' washing, came up an' said she was bokoo fashay but
the washing was napood for the week, becos she couldn't buy, beg, borrer
nor steal enough fuel to keep her copper biling.... Do we wear the yaller
boots to-night, Sir, or the _very_ yaller ones?"
"The light pair," said Percival, "to give tone to the clean collar. But go
on."
"Well, I put it to Madame as my orficer was a very partickler gent, an'
she'd gotter do our washing even if she 'ad to light 'er fire with the
family dresser. She said she was desolated; she 'adn't sufficient coal to
take the chill off a mouchoir. I thought of trying to borrer a sack for 'er
from the quarter bloke, but our relations 'ave never been the same since
the time I took my weekly ration of 'Pink Princesses' back an' arsked 'im
to change 'em for cigarettes with a bit o' tobacco in.
"After she'd gone I took a kit inventory 'an found we was down to our last
clean collar, an' we looked like bein' a bit grubby in the matter of
pyjamas. I went a walk to the canteen to think it over, an' on my way
Madame's lad came up an' said 'is team 'ad an important match for two days
later an' could I possibly oblige 'em with a football.
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