Wee Macgreegor Enlists

Wee Macgreegor Enlists

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Wee Macgreegor Enlists, by J. J. Bell
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Title: Wee Macgreegor Enlists
Author: J. J. Bell
Release Date: May 5, 2004 [EBook #12269]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WEE
MACGREEGOR ENLISTS ***

Produced by Al Haines

WEE MACGREEGOR ENLISTS
By
J. J. BELL

1916

TO
MY WIFE

CONTENTS

CHAP.
I ARMS AND THE MAID II BREAKING IT GENTLY III FIRST
BLOOD IV THE RING V IN UNIFORM VI MRS. McOSTRICH
ENTERTAINS VII WILLIE STANDS UP VIII CORRESPONDENCE
IX THE FAT GIRL X THE ALARM XI AN INVITATION XII A
TEA-PARTY XIII MISS TOD RETURNS XIV AUNT PURDIE
INTERVENES XV THE FAT GIRL AGAIN XVI CONSCIENCE
AND A COCOA-NUT XVII 'FONDEST LOVE FROM MAGGIE'
XVIII PITY THE POOR PARENTS! XIX A SERIOUS REVERSE
XX THE REAL THING AT LAST XXI 'HULLO, GLESCA
HIELANDERS! XXII NO HERO, YET HAPPY

ARMS AND THE MAID
Through the gateway flanked by tall recruiting posters came rather
hurriedly a youth of no great stature, but of sturdy build and comely
enough countenance, including bright brown eyes and fresh
complexion. Though the dull morning was coldish, perspiration might
have been detected on his forehead. Crossing the street, without glance
to right or left, he increased his pace; also, he squared his shoulders and
threw up his head with an air that might have been defiance at the fact
of his being more than an hour late for his day's work. His face,
however, betrayed a certain spiritual emotion not suggestive of
anticipated trouble with employer or foreman. As a matter of fact, the
familiar everyday duty had ceased to exist for him, and if his new
exaltation wavered a little as he neared the warehouse, fifteen minutes
later, it was only because he would have to explain things to the uncle
who employed him, and to other people; and he was ever shy of
speaking about himself.
So he hurried through the warehouse without replying to the chaffing
inquiries of his mates, and ran upstairs to his uncle's office. He was not
afraid of his uncle; on the other hand, he had never received or
expected special favour on account of the relationship.
Mr. Purdie was now a big man in the grocery trade. He had a cosy
private room with a handsome desk, a rather gorgeous carpet and an
easy-chair. He no longer attended at the counter or tied up
parcels--except when, alone on the premises late in the evening, he
would sometimes furtively serve imaginary customers, just for auld

lang syne, as he excused to himself his absurd proceeding.
'But what kep' ye late, Macgreegor?' he inquired, with a futile effort to
make his good-humoured, whiskered visage assume a stern expression.
'Come, come, oot wi' it! An 'unce o' guid reasons is worth a pun' o' fair
apologies.'
'The recruitin' office,' said Macgregor, blushing, 'wasna open till nine.'
'The recruitin' office! What--what--guidsake, laddie! dinna tell me ye've
been thinkin' o' enlistin'!'
'I've enlisted.'
Mr. Purdie fell back in his chair.
'The 9th H.L.I.,' said Macgregor, and, as if to improve matters if
possible, added, 'Glesca Hielanders--Kilts.'
The successful grocer sat up, pulled down his waistcoat and made a
grimace which he imagined to be a frown. 'Neither breeks nor kilts,' he
declared heavily, 'can cover deceit. Ye're under age, Macgreegor. Ye're
but eichteen!'
'Nineteen, Uncle Purdie.'
'Eh? An' when was ye nineteen?'
'This mornin'.'
Mr. Purdie's hand went to his mouth in time to stop a guffaw. Presently
he soberly inquired what his nephew's parents had said on the matter.
'I ha'ena tell't them yet.' 'Ah, that's bad. What--what made ye enlist?'
Macgregor knew, but could not have put it in words.
'Gettin' tired o' yer job here?'
'Na, Uncle Purdie.'
'H'm!' Mr. Purdie fondled his left whisker. 'An' when--a--ha'e ye got
to--a--jine yer regiment?'
'The morn's mornin'. I believe we're gaun into camp immediately.'
'Oho! So ye'll be wantin' to be quit o' yer job here at once. Weel, weel,
if ye feel it's yer duty to gang, lad, I suppose it's mines to let ye gang as
cheery as I can. But--I maun tell yer aunt.' Mr. Purdie rose.
Macgregor, smiled dubiously. '_She'll_ no' be pleased onyway.'
'Aw, ye never can tell what'll please yer aunt. At least, that's been ma
experience for quarter o' a century. But it'll be best to tell her--through
the 'phone, of course. A handy invention the 'phone. Bide here till I
come back.'