"Oh, Lord! look down in pity and save me!
Thou knowest, Lord, I am unworthy o' thy mercy, but please control the
shells o' those barbarians and send them in anither direction, and Thine
shall be a' the glory." Then he saw me standing there and he yelled, "Do
you think there'll be any more?" "No, that was merely a stray shell.
Let's get this grub, I'm starving." "Stray shell be damned," said he,
"they've seen the smoke and they'll be putting more over."
No sooner said than Kr-kr-kr-p! Kr-kr-kr-p! Kr-kr-kr-p! and three or
four more shells banged about the place, one of them blowing the pump
from outside through the shack past Scotty, out through the other wall,
and Scotty, ducking and dodging like a man trying to buck the line in a
football game, shot through the door and vanished in the night.
The pan of bacon he had been cooking was still intact except that it had
a coating of plaster-of-paris from the walls and ceiling of the room,
and I proceeded to put it under my belt as fast as my jaws would work,
and then made for my dugout.
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