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CHAPTER
OUR ADMIRABLE BETTY
CONCERNING THE MAJOR'S CHERRIES
"The Major, mam, the Major has a truly wonderful 'ead!" said Sergeant Zebedee Tring as he stood, hammer in hand, very neat and precise from broad shoe-buckles to smart curled wig that offset his square, bronzed face.
"Head, Sergeant, head!" retorted pretty, dimpled Mrs. Agatha, nodding at the Sergeant's broad back.
"'Ead mam, yes!" said the Sergeant, busily nailing up a branch of the Major's favourite cherry tree. "The Major has a truly wonderful 'ead, regarding which I take liberty to ob-serve as two sword-cuts and a spent bullet have in nowise affected it, Mrs. Agatha, mam, which is a fact as I will maintain whenever and wherever occasion demands, as in dooty bound mam, dooty bound."
"Duty, Sergeant, duty!"
"Dooty, mam--pre-cisely." Here the Sergeant turning round for another nail, Mrs. Agatha bent over the rose-bush, her busy fingers cutting a bloom here and another there and her pretty face quite hidden in the shade of her mob-cap.
"Indeed," she continued, after a while, "'tis no wonder you be so very--fond of him, Sergeant!"
"Fond of him, mam, fond of him," said the Sergeant turning to look at her with glowing eyes, "well--yes, I suppose so--it do be a--a matter o' dooty with me--dooty, Mrs. Agatha, mam."
"You mean duty, Sergeant."
"Dooty, mam, pre-cisely!" nodded the Sergeant, busy at the cherry tree again.
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