Plain Tales from the Hills by Rudyard Kipling
My friends Mulvaney and Otheris had gone on a shooting-expedition for one day. Learoyd was still in hospital, recovering from fever picked up in Burma. They sent me an invitation to join them and were genuinely pained when I brought beer- almost enough beer to satisfy two Privates of the Line... and Me. ''Twasn't for that we bid you welkim, Sorr,' said Mulvaney sulkily, ''Twas for the pleasure av your comp'ny.' Otheris came to the rescue with- 'Well, 'e won't be none the worse for bringin' liquor with 'im. We ain't a file o'Dooks. We're bloomin' Tommies, ye......
