toime we childern went moochin' in thuck wood--nutting and bird-nesting.
Though I never did hold wi' taking more'n one egg out of a nest, and I
allus did wet my vinger avore I touched the moss on a wren's nest. They
do say as the little bird 'ull never go back if ye doant."

His mind went roaming among childhood's memories and his eyes took on a
dreaming look.

"Mother, she were a good woman--no better woman in the parish, parson
did say. She taught us to say every night, 'Our Father, which art in
heaven'--I often used to think on it at night in the trenches. Them
nights--they do make you think a lot. It be mortal queer up there--you
veels as if you were on the edge of the world. I used to look up at the
sky and mind me o' them words in the Bible, 'When I conzider the
heavens, the work o' Thy vingers and the stars which Thou hast made,
what is man that Thou art mindful of him?' One do feel oncommon small in
them trenches at night."

"I suppose you've had a hot time up there?"

"Ah that I have. And I zeed some bad things."

"Bad?"

"Cruel, sir, mortal cruel, I be maning. 'Twur dree weeks come Monday.[6]
We wur in an advance near Wypers--'bout as far as 'tis from our village
to Wootton Bassett. My platoon had to take a house. We knowed 'twould be
hot work, and Jacob Scaplehorn and I did shake hands. 'Jarge,' 'e zed,
'if I be took write to my wife and tell 'er it be the Lard's will and
she be not to grieve.' And I zed, 'So be, Jacob, and you'll do the same