The young, recruit had been the object of the hardened" sergeant’s biting tongue for days on end, and he was heartily sick of it. But his chanco name while he was bungling through a rifle drill. “ It’s about time you knew what a fine sight was I” rasped the sergeant. “ Come, now, what is a fine sight?’’ “Well,” said the recruit, retrieving his fallen rifle, “there ctvn bo no finer sight on earth than a perfectly huge boat, crammed with sergeants, oar fire 400 miles from land in a hurricane, with not the slightest hope of rescue!”
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Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 19409, 18 November 1926, Page 9
Word Count
97Page 9 Advertisements Column 4 Evening Star, Issue 19409, 18 November 1926, Page 9
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