THe Cigars Were His.
One clay the officer commanding a Sussex volunteer regiment met one of his lieutenants on the rifle range. <( The lieutenant was shooting, and he " cal' eel " each ,«hot aa he fired without waiting for the markers to signal the result. "You're a pretty good guesser," said the colonel. " Why don't you admit you're guessing where those shots land?"
" I'll bet you a box of cigars." said the junior officer, " that I can call 20 shots correctly in succession."
"Taken!" paid the older warrior, who was nothing if not a sportsman. The lieutenant fired. "Miss," he announced, and a red flag from the target told that this was correct.
Another shot. " Miss," he declared. A third shot. "Miss again," he said. Fourth shot. " Fourth miss," announced the young officer. Another shot. " Miss," again sang out the lieutenant.
"Hold on there!" pub in the colonel. "What are you trying to do? I thought you were going to fire at the -target. " " I am trying to win my box of cigars," said the lieutenant. " Don't fire any more," said the colonel, " they're yours."
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Bibliographic details
Otago Witness, Issue 2396, 1 February 1900, Page 66
Word Count
184THe Cigars Were His. Otago Witness, Issue 2396, 1 February 1900, Page 66
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